Shambles
by moonlit.nocturne
Summary: A post-Ace world was a world Skye Spade had never wanted to imagine, let alone live in. After the Battle of Marineford, Spade's only goals in life are to kill Blackbeard and overthrow the Marines. Getting over Ace's death is harder to plan and supposed to just take time to heal. She highly doubts someone nicknamed the Surgeon of Death could help in any way. LawxOC
1. Ghosting Winds

**Shambles**

Fanfiction Based Off of: _One Piece_

Original Story: Eichiiro Oda

* * *

 _note:_ _this is an alternate universe/ending/continuation of Ace of Spades. it probably helps to read that one for some clarity, but i'm writing with the intention that this can stand alone. hopefully it's not too confusing. if it is, let me know._

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Ghosting Winds**

To ex-Admiral Aokiji, Punk Hazard was an unfortunately familiar place. His infamous battle with Akainu seemed like years ago—perhaps it really was years ago, now—but as he sat on his side of the island, comfortable despite the freezing temperatures, he could understand why Caesar Clown had chosen this place as his hideout. The remnants of the battle were still fresh, with the polarizing extremes of climate making the entire island uninhabitable for practically any sane human. Aokiji was not quite sure if Caesar Clown counted as sane or human, hence he was not surprised to find him here. It was an island frantically avoided by pirates and Marines alike, and even if they wanted to find the island, they'd have difficulty doing so, as Log Poses could not even log the place.

Aokiji had merely been on a gentle stroll on top of the ocean, thinking about life as the water glaciered with his footsteps, when he'd found himself on Punk Hazard's shores. He had heard the rumors about children disappearing near the start of the New World, something about human experiments and a forsaken lab somewhere, but had figured that Marines had been appropriately dispatched to handle the situation.

Apparently not, given that Aokiji had found himself face-to-face with Donquixote Doflamingo right as he was about to murder Vice Admiral Smoker out of pure frustration, and probably other reasons too, but mostly the frustration. Again, unfortunately, because Aokiji's life was just full of misfortunes, the ex-Admiral had been quite good friends with Smoker and respected him enough to not watch an irritating pink flamingo try to kill him because really, what an undignified death that would be for the G5 commanding officer. And thus, Aokiji had kindly intervened, chasing Doflamingo away from his prey but not without the Shichibukai leaving with the biting question of, "Just what are you, Kuzan? The rumors aren't good."

This left the former Marine to contemplate deeply about this question as the remainder of the G5 Marines gave their Vice Admiral emergency medical attention.

"Penny for your thoughts, sir?" a female voice said behind him mockingly.

Aokiji turned to find a heavily cloaked and hooded figure standing right behind him, her presence all but unannounced were it not for the fact that this person was precisely who Aokiji had wandered to Punk Hazard for.

"Sir," chuckled Aokiji. "It's been a long time since you've called me that. Usually it's just Aokiji or fucking Kuzan now."

"Well, I'm surrounded by Marines," the visitor said, somehow completely unseen by the Marines despite the fact that she was clad completely in heavy black cloth, her profile impaling a snowy landscape. "Thought I'd show manners to…you know. Blend in."

"Don't think that would've helped you any," he said.

"Probably not," she agreed. "Lucky for me, people have been preoccupied with other things here."

"Mm, not really what I expected either. How long have you been here?"

"Just long enough to overhear Smoker and his gang regrouping, something about the Strawhats and Trafalgar Law running off with Caesar Clown. I guess this laboratory explains all the missing children in this region, who the Marines once again failed to help because what's the point of them anyway."

Her voice was fairly soft, pleasant, but there was a definite bite to her tone as she made the less-than-underhanded remark. Aokiji decided to ignore the jab at his former employers; it was not like he was feeling all that keen about the institution he had resigned from anyway.

"You didn't bother helping? Smoker was about to die."

"I saw you coming from a distance," she said lightly. "I wasn't about to reveal myself to a Shichibukai for no reason. Shall we find a more deserted area to talk?"

"Let's."

Aokiji stood up, dusting the snow off his cloak, and walked with the newcomer further along the ice beach, turning a corner behind a large old stone and away from the rest of Smoker's men. He had to be thankful that Smoker's condition had been so dire—literally, an ex-Admiral had been joined by an escaped convict to discuss very top-secret matters and the Marines hadn't even noticed. Perhaps that was also why the Marines were so incompetent at many things: lack of direction.

"You can remove your hood now," Aokiji said. "We'll be fine here. They're preoccupied."

"If you say so."

Ava Skye Spade, preferably known as Spade, dropped down her hood, revealing a rather worn expression on her face. Her dark hair was braided loosely, revealing a subtle widow's peak and slightly larger forehead that she had hidden in her earlier years with bangs or cowboy hats. Her dark green eyes were lively but shrewd; Aokiji could tell that though she maintained eye contact with him, she was hyperaware of her surroundings and constantly was looking past his ears to see if any Marine would round the corner to find them. Now almost in her mid-twenties, the rash aggression of her teenage years had mellowed down to a quiet but fierce intensity. Perhaps it wasn't merely her age that had made her more controlled, though. Spade had never been quite the same since the death of Portgas D. Ace.

"You look tired," Aokiji observed.

"I've been flying for three days. Can't believe you told me to meet you here," she said, her voice showing disgust. "Do you know how hard it is to find this place? And all the shit I had to fly through too— _the pollution_. It fucking burned my skin."

"I hadn't thought about that," admitted Aokiji.

"Not all of us can walk on the ocean," she snapped. "Keep that in mind."

"Well, not all of us can fly," he replied smoothly. "You could've taken a ship."

Spade snorted, a sound that did not quite fit her face. "You would love that, watching me sail in circles because a Log Pose can't find this place."

"Point taken. Apologies," he said. "I'll find a better place next time."

"Did you choose here thinking I'd help you smoke Caesar out of this lab?" she said.

"No, of course not. I was merely wandering across the seas and remembered this would be a nice deserted place for an a disgraced Admiral and a pirate worth half a million beli to rendezvous in secret."

"You don't have to pretend to be lazy around me, you know," she said dryly. "I know you always care more than you like to let on."

"Truthfully, it was just a hunch. Plus, with the pirates showing up, they didn't need my help anyway."

"Smoker did. The fuck is Doflamingo doing here anyway?"

"It seems he is in charge of this laboratory. Apparently he has been sponsoring all of Caesar's experiments."

"Ah. And he sells the developments in the Underworld?"

"Indeed. Kaidou's _Joker_ ," Aokiji said in a fake spooky voice. "How quaint."

"So, what _are_ you now, Kuzan?" she said, repeating Doflamingo's final question. "Friend of the Marines? Friend of pirates?"

"What rumors was he talking about?" wondered Aokiji aloud. "How are rumors about me _not_ good? I'm a wonderful person."

"You know exactly what he's talking about. I've heard from multiple sources that you're affiliated with Blackbeard and the Underworld now."

"On _your_ orders," he snipped.

She laughed. " _My orders_? Aokiji, you were _my_ superior!"

"Yes, well, not anymore."

It had been a long time since Aokiji had seen her as an underling. True, he had practically raised her in the Marines, and her reputation as his personal protégé had not gone unnoticed. She had been the youngest Vice Admiral in the Marines' history, not to mention a woman, and it had all been very well and fine until she'd received the tracking mission that had changed her life forever: finding Nico Robin.

Aokiji was still unclear what exactly had transpired between the Devil Child of Ohara and his student, but it had caused his student to do some (most likely) illegal digging into old Marine records and uncover the truth behind Ohara and its Buster Call. After prying unnecessary information out of people and then committing the murder of a Cipher Pol officer who had been involved in the Ohara Buster Call, Spade had officially left the Marines and never looked back.

"So how'd Luffy and Trafalgar Law get here?"

"I spoke with some of the Marines earlier." Aokiji readjusted his glasses. "It appears Trafalgar Law has been here a while, perhaps intending to break apart this laboratory from the inside. The Strawhats ended up here by pure luck. Since then, Law has allied with the Strawhats to bring down Doflamingo."

"Interesting," Spade mused. "A Shichibukai partnered with Luffy, who has miraculously reappeared with his full crew after two years."

"Have you met him?"

Spade arched an eyebrow. "I was on Luffy's ship for the good part of a year. Don't you remember?"

"No, not Strawhat. Law."

"Oh," she said thoughtfully, "I don't think so. Didn't he become Shichibukai by sending a hundred pirate hearts to Marine Headquarters?"

"Indeed," said Aokiji mildly, remembering the day when the shipment arrived. He'd heard of the Surgeon of Death and knew he had a reputation for being slightly sadistic and cruel, but this was a bit extreme. Many of the hearts were still beating, freakily enough. No one really knew what to do with them, and before anyone could decide, the then-twenty-four-year-old had become promoted to Shichibukai. It was a feat unheard of in Marine history.

"He was one of the Supernovas on Shabondy the day Kuma sent the rest of the Strawhats flying and arrested me, but obviously I was busy with other things."

"Like trying to get arrested," Aokiji said pointedly.

"I wasn't _trying_ to get arrested," she retorted. "It just so happened that getting arrested would get me closer to Ace and that didn't seem like such a bad idea at the time."

"I'm sure your experiences at Impel Down made you rethink otherwise."

Spade nodded curtly. "They did."

Aokiji chuckled, which was honestly a bit mean because he knew that the arrest had been his pupil's last-ditch effort to save Portgas D. Ace from his public execution, if only for it to mean that the Marines had tried to execute them together. The duo, Ace of Spades, had been infamous several years back as the strongest rookies on the Grand Line; Ace's Mera Mera no Mi and Spade's Kaze Kaze no Mi seemed like a match made in heaven, especially when Spade's winds made sailing so easy. Those juvenile days seemed long gone—Aokiji had tried to capture Spade on multiple occasions back then and got to see how strong his old student had become. Though he could've beaten both Spade and Ace at their prime, he knew from watching them fight that they were formidable and, frighteningly enough, happy when they fought together.

It had been a long time since Aokiji had seen Spade happy, no matter how much she smiled or smirked now.

"Well, that's all really fascinating news, but I'm sure you just found that out too. What did you bring me out here for?" Spade asked.

"Thought we should touch base, before I go undercover," Aokiji said seriously.

Spade nodded. "You've made contact with Blackbeard then?"

"Yes. I'll be meeting them soon. Your last coordinates still stand?"

She appeared to be thinking for a second. "No…no, I think I have new ones. Here…" Spade dug into a pocket deep inside her robes and took out a sheet of paper. "I think those are the latest ones. But you should go to the previous ones first, pretend like you have old information and see if someone else is there who can lead you to Blackbeard. I don't want him knowing I can keep an eye on him."

"Skye, most people don't even know you're alive," groaned Aokiji, taking the folded paper from her. Her instructions most likely added weeks to his trip.

"He knows," she said grimly. "I saw him when I got Marco out of their battle."

"Oh, that's right," remembered Aokiji.

It had been several months since Aokiji and Spade had last met for their typical exchange of information meetings. The meeting before their last had been shortly after the remnants of the Whitebeard Pirates had launched a full-scale battle against the Blackbeard Pirates in what was now known as the Payback War. After the Whitebeard Pirates' thorough defeat, the division commanders had all but disappeared, which was why Aokiji had been rather surprised to meet Marco in Spade's bar on a small island near the edge of the Calm Belt. But perhaps he shouldn't have been startled to find the First Division Commander alive and contentedly downing at beer; Spade's affiliation with the Whitebeard Pirates was an obvious one, and truthfully Aokiji should've been surprised not to have run into him sooner.

"How's Marco doing anyway?" Aokiji said casually.

Spade's gaze hardened. "Deals are still just between you and me, Aokiji. Whitebeard Pirate information is off the table—I've told you that before."

"I know, I know," he sighed. "Always worth a shot. I like to remind myself I have friends in this world. Thanks for crushing those dreams."

"You know I care about you and we'll fight for you when you need us," she said irritably, her tone not matching her uncharacteristically sentimental statement, "but it doesn't change the fact that you're still buddy-buddy with Marines like Smoker and Akainu—"

"I have never been 'buddy-buddy' with Akainu and you know it," the ex-Admiral said coldly.

"Yeah, well, you don't want him dead and that's buddy-buddy enough for me," she said scathingly. "Whatever, Marco's fine. Now what do you have for me?"

"First, this," he said, handing her a very miniature Den-Den Mushi. It was red, angry-looking, and had the letters "SOS" painted across its forehead.

Spade understood and pocketed it safely in her inner robes.

"Please don't lose it, they're very rare and expensive. And one-time use," he reminded her.

"I know, so no false alarms," she answered. "The moment you think you're in deep shit, I'll come with friends."

"Appreciated," he said sincerely.

"Anything else?"

"A rumor, about the Mera Mera no Mi."

He had mentioned the rumor about someone who was claiming to be Hiken no Ace and had caused some small trouble with civilians several months ago. Eyewitness testimony had claimed that he was able to produce fire, just like the old Firefist.

Spade narrowed her eyes. "That was a fake. I eliminated him personally."

"Ah, well that's good. But I'm not talking about the fake. Doflamingo has let known in Underworld channels that he has obtained the newly regrown Mera Mera no Mi."

"And is it true?"

Aokiji paused for a bit. He had confirmed and reconfirmed the rumors, just because he knew that Spade would not sit idly by as the Devil's Fruit of Portgas D. Ace fell into the wrong hands. It was lucky that Doflamingo already had his own Fruit; the power of fire in that monster's hands would have been catastrophic.

"Aokiji?"

"It is true," he said finally.

Spade merely blinked. "What does he want to do with it?"

"It is unclear. I just wanted to let you know."

She nodded. "Thank you for telling me."

"Don't do anything stupid, Skye."

"I know. I won't."

Aokiji nodded, knowing that any further cautionary measures were useless. Spade was strong and, in the last two years, had become more levelheaded than before. It was a change Aokiji was glad for, but he knew that watching her partner and lover die right in front of her was a terrible exchange for learning some restraint in battle.

"I guess I'll be heading out. Be careful with Blackbeard, Aokiji," she said as she replaced her hood over her head.

"I certainly will be."

"Get updates to me if you can. I'll keep an eye on him as much as possible, so hopefully that'll mean keeping tabs on you too. You're a lot harder to track if you don't want to be found."

"You're worse."

"Thank you, that's a great compliment."

"Do you keep track of everyone?" asked Aokiji curiously.

"Just people I care about."

"Like all of the Strawhats over the last two years?"

"Most of them," said Spade slowly. "I at least had a general idea where they were. Though honestly, I just needed to know they were alive."

"So you haven't contacted them?"

Spade shook her head.

"Why not? I thought you'd spent the better part of a year with them."

Spade didn't answer immediately. "I just couldn't make myself."

Aokiji understood. "All right. Well, you're bound to run into them eventually."

"Mm, I know. May be a while, though." She readjusted her hood and wrapped her scarf tightly around her neck. "I'm off, Kuzan. Stay safe."

Aokiji was about voice aloud that perhaps she should rest for longer since she'd been flying around for three days straight, but there was no point. With a nice, hot breeze that tickled Aokiji's face, Skye Spade disappeared.

* * *

Trafalgar D. Water Law was a deeply pragmatic and incredibly intelligent man. There was no point in him being bashful about it; he was the youngest Shichibukai in history (not that the role of being a government dog was that admirable but still, the point stood) and knew that he was different from the other rookies in his generation by sheer virtue of his ability to mastermind. Truthfully, the thought of someone like Eustass Kid being able to find an extremely well-hidden laboratory, raid it and destroy a deadly biochemical weapon, _and_ escape with the mad scientist _while_ threatening Don-fucking-flamingo was really laughable. Eustass Kid didn't even have the foresight to see how the role of Shichibukai was remotely useful; Law had gotten away with grand-scale near-massacres of entire crew ships and had barely received a slap on the wrist from the World Government.

Law was taking a couple minutes to appreciate his own genius and also say a brief thank you to whatever gods were out there that he was still alive, because _fuck_ had Vergo's sudden appearance at Punk Hazard thrown him for a loop. And to think that Monet had been Doflamingo's! The Strawhats' incidental appearance had truly been a blessing in disguise.

Still, Law could not quite believe that Monkey D. Luffy was really all there. Sure, the kid was really strong and _insanely nice_ but that _insane niceness_ was so naïve that it was a wonder how he'd managed to survive at all. He had a good crew, a good heart, and amazing charisma, but Law would've been dead a million times over if he'd treated people the way Luffy treated people.

It had been Law's idea to make the alliance. It was Luffy's interpretation that made it a very weird friendship.

It was now the morning after their battle at Punk Hazard, and Trafalgar Law was waiting impatiently for the morning paper. He'd given Doflamingo his ultimatum yesterday and was anxious to see what his former captain was going to decide. Giving up his Shichibukai position and stepping down as ruler of Dressrosa would make Doflamingo extremely vulnerable, especially given the atrocities he'd barely kept secret. But Kaidou, the strongest creature alive and the scariest of the Yonkou, was a much more frightening prospect.

Law sighed. His goal in life was to make a man like Doflamingo scared shitless at the mere thought of him. That, and find the One Piece.

He shifted his nodachi into the crook of his left arm as he gazed over the edge of the ship. They were on the Thousand Sunny, a beautiful ship even by Law's standards, and were currently sailing in the direction of Dressrosa. The paper still hadn't arrived, but Law had the gut feeling Doflamingo would acquiesce to his demands, especially given the alternative was so distasteful.

"Good morning, Captain Law," said a voice behind him.

Law turned to see Nico Robin approach him, her smile pleasant as she took a sip of her coffee. Sprouting from her waist was another set of hands, which cradled a second cup that was proffered to him.

"Good morning, and thanks, Miss Nico," he said, taking the steaming mug with secret delight at seeing the Hana Hana no Mi at work in front of him. He really was curious: if he broke the extra limbs, would she feel pain? Were the extra limbs all clones of her own body parts, or did they each have individualized anatomies?

"Robin is fine," she said with a gentle wave of her third hand. "Did you need cream or sugar?"

"No, this is excellent. Thanks."

"Sleep well?"

"Mm. It was a bit hot."

"It doesn't help that you're dressed for winter," she said chidingly. Law had to admit that the historian's light cotton blouse and shorts were more suited for the balmy weather, but he had lived on the tundra side of Punk Hazard for the last month. Hence, the fur collar and snow leopard cap.

"Still," Robin continued, "a breeze would be wonderful right about now.'

"I know," whined Luffy as he joined them. The Strawhat Captain was fanning himself with his hand, tongue hanging out of his mouth like he was a panting dog. "It's so hot…I miss Ava, she could cool us down in a jiffy."

"And get us to our destinations faster," moaned Nami the Navigator as she joined them up on deck with a pastry in hand. "The New World feels even worse than the start of the Grand Line…it's so hard to predict weather patterns here."

"Who's Ava?" asked Law, feeling slightly left out.

"Ava," replied Luffy, as if this answered Law's question clearly.

"Yes," the surgeon said impatiently. "I understand her name is Ava, but that still tells me nothing."

"You might know her as Spade," said Robin casually, "of Ace of Spades."

"Her name is Ava," said Luffy indignantly. "I only heard Ace call her Skye. She seemed to prefer it that way."

Law was reeling with this new information. He remembered the old bounty posters from years ago, before the Battle of Marineford, but hadn't seen anyone beyond Luffy and Roronoa Zoro who had caught his attention. Surely he would've noticed that a previous Vice Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, user of destructive wind power, had been a member of Strawhat's crew. Last he'd heard, she'd been captured and was about to be executed with her partner, Portgas D. Ace, only to have mysteriously somehow destroyed the executioner's platform and freed both of them. Ace had still died after protecting Luffy, right in front of Spade. There was a famous picture captured by a bold journalist of Spade in the aftermath, surrounded in cyclones and hurricanes as she tried to drown everyone at Marineford.

No one had really heard anything of her since.

"She was a crewmember?" Law said in disbelief.

"Sort of," said Robin thoughtfully.

"She was!" argued Luffy. "She helped us out a lot in the beginning, but when everything with Ace happened…"

Luffy's voice trailed off, and the rest of the crewmembers looked at each other anxiously. It was clear Luffy had not really talked about his dead brother very much, and the last thing any of them knew how to do was comfort a dejected version of their otherwise extremely hyper captain. Law almost felt bad for the Strawhat, but was also somewhat relieved to see that the young captain was capable of expressing an emotion beyond the scope of hyper-happy to gonna-beat-you-up-angry.

"She left," finished Roronoa Zoro as he joined them. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat, having just finished his morning workout. "She never really was a crewmember, Luffy."

"Yes, she was!" Luffy said indignantly, jolted out of his temporary reverie by this apparently scandalous statement. "She helped us out a lot!"

The first-mate rolled his eyes. "She helped us out, but it wasn't ever the same. She never was _with_ us like she was with the Whitebeard Pirates. I'm not blaming her or anything, Luffy, but the fact that she didn't come back after two years like the rest of us shows that."

Luffy deflated visibly at this argument. "Maybe she just didn't get the message."

Nami snorted. "If _Zoro_ could get the message, Ava could too. I have to agree with Zoro, Luffy. I think she just had…other things to do."

"Where _is_ she?" said Law. "I haven't really heard anything about her."

"You should be the one telling us," chuckled Robin. "With your status as Shichibukai, I'm sure you hear more from the World Government than the rest of us."

"The unofficial stance is that she's dead," Law said bluntly.

Luffy looked at him determinedly. "Nope. No way."

"You didn't even see her get out of Marineford," said Law. "She could've died at the battle."

"They would've publicized it," said Nami. "Executing the Ace of Spades together had been their goal all along."

Law shrugged. "Then maybe she died at a later battle. Like the Payback War. Or just…I dunno. Died after the Firefist did."

"Like how?" said Luffy sharply.

"I imagine watching Firefist die right in front of her was fairly traumatic," said Law callously. "Maybe she killed herself."

Luffy actually looked angry at this accusation, but Zoro answered before his captain could retort.

"Just doesn't seem like her," the first-mate said. "You've never met her—she's much more of a…pissed-off-will-kill-you kind of person."

"Fine," the Heart Pirate said irritably. He did not know why he was so adamant about proving that this ghost of a woman was dead. Maybe he just wanted to crush the Strawhats' dreams a little bit. He was getting irked out by everyone's chipper attitudes and overall niceness and wanted them to live in the real world. "But it's just odd that she wouldn't contact any of you over the course of two years if she were still alive."

"Who said she didn't contact us?" said Robin slyly as she drank the rest of her coffee.

Everyone stared at her.

" _What_?!" exclaimed Nami.

"She contacted you?!" Luffy said excitedly.

"Sort of," backtracked Robin. "I can't be for sure. But about half a year ago…when I was with the Revolutionary Army—" Law had to blink several times to reassure himself that he had heard correctly; what person just casually stated they were with the most-wanted rebellion syndicate in the world? The Strawhats were all batshit crazy. "—I got a message from someone letting me know about some new Marine fleets that were going to be deployed near some of our bases."

"How'd you know it was her?" said Zoro.

"Well, there's a little more talk about her in the Underworld," the historian responded. "Not by name, per se, but there's someone called the Hurricane down in the intel portion of the Underworld. That's who sent me the message. It's just a hunch, but I think it's her."

"That's it?" said Nami dumbly. "A nickname and one message?"

"Yep," said Robin cheerfully.

"I believe it!" said Luffy, grin stretching from ear to ear. "Robin's hunches are never off! Wow, great! She was still helping you out—see!" The Strawhat Captain turned to Law, as if proving a major point. "She still cares about us."

That had never really been Law's point, but he just let it pass. There was no point arguing with Strawhat Luffy. It didn't matter how well thought-out or brilliant your argument was; once he was settled on something, you were bound to lose.

* * *

Ava Skye Spade was in a wonderfully furnished and beautiful hotel room in Dressrosa. After several days of nonstop flying and forgoing sleep, she was pleased to find that her bed sheets were made of silk, her bathrobe was as soft as clouds, and her food was delectable. She had always been a fan of the finer things in life, and for once was going to reward herself in one of the most lavish cities in the New World.

Even if the city was ruled by Doflamingo.

Truthfully, she should've been smarter and chosen a smaller island off the coast of Dressrosa, not directly under Doflamingo's thumb but close enough that the city was just a quick hop away. But she had lived on a small island for long enough; she missed the bustle of a big city, the sounds of people and music, for no matter how much Spade appreciated isolation and hated social niceties, sometimes she just needed to remind herself that there were happy people in the world. While the people she chose as friends were people she trusted with her life, like Marco and Aokiji, they could also be rather depressing, and she couldn't blame them given their line of work. All the same, she needed a distraction once in a while.

Sadly, it seemed today that she could not bury her head in the sand as she had originally intended. Spade drank her latte delicately as she perused the morning's newspaper.

 _Donquixote Doflamingo Withdraws From the Shichibukai and Renounces as King of Dressrosa!_

Considering that she had just seen Doflamingo yesterday, this was a surprise. Perhaps that was why Doflamingo was so angry with Smoker? Because Trafalgar Law and Luffy had made off Caesar? The article was not particularly enlightening, giving some bullshit excuse for the sudden resignation, which left Spade to puzzle things together herself. Maybe Caesar was very important to Doflamingo, enough that people could threaten the Shichibukai with him.

Right under the Doflamingo headline was another with the subjects of Spade's musings.

 _Shichibukai Trafalgar Law is in an Unprecedented Alliance with the Strawhat Crew._

Subtitle: _There has been no reaction from the government yet_.

This was then subsequently followed with yet another announcement: _The Kid Pirates, the On Air Pirates, and the Hawkins Pirates have also made an alliance_.

Spade let out a low whistle and drank more of her latte. What a day. It looked like all the Supernovas were on the same page, having decided to upend the world on the same morning.

Her gaze lingered on the picture of Luffy, who was beaming happily at the camera. He looked well. That was good. She did not know what he'd been like after Ace had died, but it was good to see that the Strawhat captain was still pursuing his original goal of becoming the Pirate King and causing a happy sort of chaos all the while.

Aokiji had asked why she hadn't contacted the Strawhats.

 _Because it's hard_ , she thought bitterly. _It's hard to see Luffy and not think about Ace._

And thinking of Ace always made her hurt.

Spade sighed and redirected her attention to the smirking face of Trafalgar Law instead. This was not a collaboration Spade would have seen coming. She did not know much about the Surgeon of Death besides the well-known rumors: that he was cruel and calculated, and a terrifying Devil's Fruit Power that he knew how to use to full ability. She knew that he had saved Luffy from the Battle of Marineford for no apparent reason, according to what Jimbei had told Marco.

A weird guy. Clearly everything that had happened at Punk Hazard was a careful plan set up by Law, who seemed to understand the political ramifications of every move he made. Pressuring Doflamingo to step down was clearly also a move by the surgeon too, for Spade knew that Luffy simply did not have the mind for these kinds of games.

She pursed her lips and set the newspaper aside. It was one thing for three pirate crews to ally and actively take down one of the Yonkou just because they wanted to fight. But all of the events from Punk Hazard to this morning's news just seemed more calculated than that. It was a clear targeting of Doflamingo, with a subtext declaration to Kaidou, if the Yonkou was truly backing up the Joker.

Law seemed a bit dangerous.

Spade rubbed her forehead, trying to ease out the wrinkle that was forming between her eyebrows. She missed the days when she had to think less about politics and moving chess pieces. She had enough on her plate, with Aokiji going to Blackbeard and the constant monitoring of Marine movement to boot. She had no interest in Doflamingo or Kaidou; as disgusting as she found Doflamingo, she held less of a grudge against him for Ace's death than either Blackbeard or the Marines. He was simply not a priority.

Until now.

The news of the Mera Mera no Mi changed things. She knew she was not supposed to care too much, that if Aokiji had said it was real, then it really was, but Spade just had to see for herself.

She pushed aside her room service breakfast and reached over the edge of her bed for her bag. From it, she withdrew a small Den-Den Mushi with heavily lidded eyes, making it look chronically sleepy. She picked it up and rang.

The recipient picked it up on the third ring.

"Hello?" came Marco's voice, guarded and careful.

"Hi," said Spade brightly, "this is Rhea Porter calling from—"

"Hey, Rhea," Marco said, relieved. "This is, uh…shit, what's my alias again?"

"Charles Something?" she said, trying to remember. "I forget."

"I'll come up with something better next time. But it's me—one time when you were drunk, you tried to roast a raw chicken leg in my flames."

Spade laughed. "You're really not supposed to tell people that."

"It's funny. Anyway, you've been a lil longer than I thought. Was worried."

"Took me a little longer to find him than I'd thought," she admitted. "Now a good time to talk?"

"Yeah, I'm alone."

"Safe?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Mm. I don't have an White Den-Den Mushi to block interceptions, though, so don't talk about locations or anything specific."

"Oh, okay. How'd everything go?"

"Was good. Gave him updates. He'll keep us posted."

"Good. Anything else he said?"

Spade bit her lower lip. "He mentioned that Doflamingo had the new Mera Mera no Mi. He says it's real this time."

"Fuck. What a shitty person to get it. What's he gonna do with it?"

"Dunno yet. I…I can look into it."

Marco paused. She had told him the general area her meeting with Aokiji was in, and she could tell he was piecing together her location based on the very vague hints.

"Don't," he said finally. "It's not worth it."

"But—"

"You can't even eat the damn thing," Marco said. "What're you gonna do with it?"

"I don't know," she said, frustrated. "I'll give it to you, you decide. I just…I don't think I can handle seeing someone use Ace's powers yet. It still feels too soon."

Marco sighed, causing the Den-Den Mushi to also look exasperated.

"It's been two years, it was going to happen soon," he said, voice low. "I know it's tough but things are moving quickly. You saw the paper today, right?"

"Yeah."

"And did you get to see the broadcast of what happened at Punk Hazard yesterday?"

"What broadcast?" she said, bewildered.

"That Vegapunk knock-off, Caesar Clown or whatever, developed this huge-ass poison gas called SAD and released it on a bunch of Marines yesterday at Punk Hazard. That's what Luffy and Trafalgar Law got caught up in and I guess they beat Caesar and ran off with him."

"Oh, I didn't realize he was getting into biochemical warfare."

"Yeah, that's my point. Clearly someone ordered him to make it, and I'm betting everything with Doflamingo's connected. Caesar's got a big sponsor, and if it's a Yonkou, then we're moving to some pretty big battles and soon. I'd rather you look into that than chase after that Fruit."

"Doflamingo's still involved in both topics," muttered Spade.

"Yeah, but one seems like a distraction and the other seems more world-ending, dontcha think?"

"Fine," she groaned. "I'll look into it."

"Thanks, S—I mean, Rhea. I know it's tempting but we gotta— _fucking fuck_ —"

"Are you okay?" Spade demanded, sitting up immediately.

All she got were labored breaths on the other line.

"Hey," she said angrily. "Answer me."

"I'm okay," Marco answered through audibly gritted teeth. "Just…moved funny, and now my back hurts like shit."

During the end of the Payback War, Marco had gotten hit head-on with an earthquake blast by Blackbeard. Spade had arrived just in time to catch him as he was falling, clearly close to dead, and had whisked him away without even having time to land a single blow on Teach, but keeping Marco alive had been more important than killing Teach. Marco was only alive thanks to his Devil's Fruit—they didn't call him The Phoenix for nothing—but ever since that battle, he'd suffered from sudden spasms of pain that would seize his entire body at the slightest trigger. _Aftershocks of an earthquake_ , was what Spade had called them. They hurt like a bitch. Marco was fully incapacitated whenever they happened.

"Breathe," she ordered. "Breathe, just in and out. I'm here."

"Sort of," laughed Marco through some evident pain.

"Stop talking," she said. "Just breathe."

"Then you talk," he said. "Keep me distracted."

"I'm…um…" She glanced around the room and landed on the newspaper. "So Trafalgar Law seems a bit sketchy, right? He and Luffy are the weirdest duo I've seen yet. I never met him but the stories are kinda crazy—he sent a hundred hearts to Marine Headquarters for the Shichibukai title, which he's the youngest to ever get. And he's notorious for being a mastermind of all these huge events happening and apparently is very skilled at torture, which seems a bit ironic given that he's a doctor. I haven't really looked into him that much beyond what's obvious, but it just seems like the last person to pair with the ball of sunshine that is Luffy. Just looking at his picture makes me think of death and destruction."

"Really nice of you," said Marco, his breathing now even. "Fastest judgment of someone yet."

"Better now?" she said lightly.

"Yeah, that was a shorter one. Thanks for the distraction, even though I didn't really need the profile on Doctor Doom."

"He is really weird," said Spade feverishly.

"You've never met him—you should be careful of rumors."

"His Devil's Fruit lets him do some fucked up shit. I'm really okay never meeting this guy."

"He wouldn't even be able to use his abilities on you," Marco said, amused. "I think Logias are his weakness."

"Maybe," she said.

"All right, I gotta go. But get back whenever you can. We should talk about next steps."

"Yeah, I'll look into the whole Punk Hazard incident for a bit and get back to you."

"Don't dwell on it too much. It's just for intel; we don't need to get involved.  
"Aye-aye, captain."

"Don't…"

"It's a joke."

Marco laughed weakly. He still felt uncomfortable being called captain by the rest of the Whitebeard Pirates, though he had essentially been acting as one for the last two years. Whitebeard left big shoes to fill, but Spade thought Marco was doing splendidly, despite the whole Payback War debacle. They were still a force to be reckoned with.

"Stay safe, Miss Rhea."

"Mm-hm, you too."

Marco hung up with a clack, and the Den-Den Mushi looked at her, bored. She shoved it back in her bag and got out of bed. She would take today easy, just snoop around Dressrosa, see if she could get any info on why Doflamingo had resigned suddenly, and if on the off-chance she heard about the Mera-Mera no Mi, well, she wasn't going to turn away free information.

She straightened her robe out and looked back on the bed, where Trafalgar Law smirked up at her. She suppressed a shudder. She knew that she was going to have to meet Luffy again, sooner than later. Spade only hoped it was after his alliance with the Heart Pirates ceased.

There were just some people who just radiated a certain kind of intensity: Luffy, a shining ball of brightness, Ace, a flaming heat.

Law looked cold, frightening even as he smiled.

Spade was not one to scare easily, but she was quite certain she would be fine going her entire life without ever figuring out what exactly the epithet "Surgeon of Death" meant.

* * *

 _free talk_ :

 _i've been in a one piece mood, after finally catching up on 200 chapters. wanted to do lawxoc, liked spade enough to just continue her in a post-ace's-death world. basically this picks up from the epilogue of ace of spades_, _but of course without the happy ending._

 _i'm still in a fuck-it-i'm-doing-what-i-want mood so hence here we are with this fic. we'll see where it goes. hope you enjoy!_

 _xoxo,  
m.n_


	2. Kamikaze

**Chapter 2: Kamikaze**

Being able to fly was definitely a perk of being a Logia user, specifically one who could control the weather to some extent. Even if she didn't want to exert herself with the effort of flight, sailing was also generally faster for her than it was for the average person. This special skill of being able to get places much quicker than normal was in part the reason why she was rather good at gathering information; if she heard rumors about important meetings, she would be able to get to the destination ahead of time and eavesdrop. It worked even better if those meetings were outside, because Spade could dematerialize into a mere shimmer that was fairly invisible to people who didn't know what they were looking for.

Such was her situation now, as she had spent the entire morning hovering over the streets of Acacia, the port town of Dressrosa, in an attempt to figure out exactly what was going on. Acacia was a strange city, with frequent stabbings and passionate dances, spicy foods, and weirdest of all, _talking and walking toys_. No one seemed perturbed by the fact that a wooden horse was animatedly prancing down the street, or that an old raggedy doll was gossiping about the latest news. Spade did not want to stick out as a foreigner and therefore did not attempt to ask around about this peculiarity that everyone else seemed to take for granted, even though some of the dolls really freaked her out.

She sat now in an outside café, drinking her third cup of coffee of the day and watching a lovely black-haired street dancer as she sashayed for a crowd nearby. There had been a startling appearance from a Cipher Pol crew earlier in the town square, which had announced that the news of Doflamingo resigning as Dressrosa's king and as Shichibukai were false. A corrected version would be released in the afternoon papers, but until then, citizens were to proceed with their lives normally.

Something was very wrong, but Spade didn't have all the information and therefore didn't know what to prepare for. The air was hot and dry and her coffee was nice and cold. It helped her think.

There were two options: perhaps the morning report had truly just been a mistake, and some reporter was currently getting chewed out and fired for making such scandalous headlines without verifications, or perhaps the fake news had been purposely released because Law had threatened Doflamingo with something important—Caesar—and Doflamingo was trying to lure the Surgeon of Death into a trap. The latter seemed extreme. Being able to convince the entire world of something as huge as resigning from the Shichibukai required some serious connections in the World Government. No matter how influential Doflamingo was, Spade wasn't sure he was _that_ powerful.

Yet, with how much he seemed to hang around Mariejoa alone, maybe she was mistaken.

"Refill, Miss?" a server offered, a pitcher of iced coffee in his and.

"Please and thank you."

The server refilled her drink graciously and was about to bow away before Spade stopped him.

"It's been a strange morning, hasn't it?" she said.

"Indeed! We were so shocked to hear that our king was stepping down unannounced. Thank the gods it was fake!"

"It's surprising to see such a major news source get their information wrong."

"Certainly, but for once, it's a relief to us."

"Mm. Is Doflamingo well-liked around here?"

"Of course! Ten years ago, he saved us from a corrupt king who tried to steal all the citizens' money and started going on a rampage to kill everyone in the city. It was a truly terrible time. Since then, King Doffy has made Dressrosa into the region it is, an island of Love and Passion, as I'm sure you can see in our ladies' lovely dancing and our men's bravery in the Corrida Colosseum. Speaking of which," the server said, clearly now on a roll, "have you heard the wonderful news about the Colosseum's prize today?"

"No," said Spade pleasantly, "I haven't. Do tell."

"It has been announced that the winner will earn the Mera Mera no Mi, gaining the power of the legendary Hiken no Ace!"

Spade was very careful and smiled, despite the fact that she suddenly felt like throwing up.

"That's incredible," she said. "What a power. So last man standing will earn it?"

"Yes! Pirates and fighters from across the world have gathered today to compete for it. Rumors have it that even members of the Yonkou Blackbeard's fleet have arrived!"

"Wow, it must be a show. I'd love to go watch. Do we have to buy tickets?"

"Oh, the show may be too gruesome for the faint of heart!"

Spade's smile hardened. "I think I'll be okay."

The server prattled on for yet another ten minutes, docking himself of what would've been a nice tip at the start of her drink, before finally telling her how to get to the Colosseum and the bar that sold its tickets.

Spade paid for her drink and headed to the bar. The Colosseum events would not begin until later in the afternoon. She would buy the ticket now and then had two hours to get more information about Doflamingo and what the fake news story had meant from this morning. After that, she would go get the Mera Mera no Mi.

Because no matter what Marco said, it was still too soon. She could not stand the thought of someone being able to control fire, to create pillars and huge fists of flames that could destroy fleets in seconds, to just _be_ that blazing presence that Ace had been.

Even now, over two years later, Spade had moments when she would just blink and see Ace's dying face in front of her, would feel that icy drop settle in her stomach that marked the disappearance of his familiar scorching touch as his life had let his body. In the times she had completed a task and was taking a short break, she would find her mind wandering off to memories she shouldn't be dwelling on, from her time with Ace on Whitebeard's ship to their imprisonment in Impel Down. The memories of Impel Down were terrible. Sometimes, the ache that racked her body on a rainy day was enough to keep her in bed for hours.

Spade brushed aside her thoughts. _Focus_. She found the bar further centrally in the town square and pushed the door open, only to come face-to-face with one of the newest Supreme Admirals: Fujitora Isshou.

 _Holy shit_.

* * *

Supreme Admiral Isshou, otherwise known as Fujitora, was a wise, old, blind man who loved to gamble despite the fact that he was, well, blind. This was only a minor hindrance, sine he could depend on kind strangers around him to tell him the results of the games he played and his acute sense of hearing sometimes gave him an advantage. Yet, one would think that after losing so often, he would be disinclined to continue gambling away his substantial Admiral's salary, but something about the roll of the die and knowing that there was such thing as impartial Chance in the world made him continue nonetheless.

He was in Acacia, Dressrosa, on direct orders from Fleet Admiral Sakazuki, who had received a tip from Vice Admiral Smoker that there was going to be a significant event occurring on the northern island of Green Bit some time this afternoon. Fujitora had not alerted the Shichibukai Doflamingo of his arrival; truthfully, there was no reason to prolong any interactions between him and the Warlord when his ultimate goal as a Supreme Admiral was to abolish the Shichibukai ranks altogether. Besides, he had heard disturbing things about Doflamingo and was not inclined to be his friend.

"You bet white? It's black again, old man!" said his kind stranger friend who had offered to tell him what the roulette had landed on.

"Oh, that's unfortunate," he mused, disappointed. "Five times in a row? Chance has forsaken me today."

There was snickering around him as Fujitora signaled for him to bet again. He heard a light cough behind him, likely belonging to a woman, and paused.

Something had been off since several minutes ago, when the door to the bar had opened and had wafted in a very hot breeze. It was indeed warm outside today, but something about this breeze struck Fujitora as strange. Since then, he could not shake the feeling that someone was watching him intently. There was no particular scent that struck him—perhaps a bit of saltwater, a light floral perfume—but overwhelmingly, it was just this strange warmth.

Fujitora had seen much grief and atrocities in his lifetime and therefore had inflicted blindness on himself many years ago, so he would never have to witness such terrible sights again. It was a choice that he did not regret, though sometimes, such as in situations as these, he did wish that he could simply turn around and see who exactly was boring laser beams into the back of his head.

"It is hot today, isn't it?" he said aloud.

"Sure is, old man."

Fujitora signaled for his friend to come closer and felt the stranger oblige.

"Friend," he whispered, "I have a strange favor to ask. I can't help but think that since several minutes ago, someone has been watching me."

"Old man," laughed the stranger, "everyone's watchin' you. You're a blind guy playin' roulette. Not something we see everyday."

"True, but approximately six and a half minutes ago, the door opened and someone came in. Could you tell me who, perhaps?"

"There were a couple people," his friend replied. "Uh…"

"A woman, perhaps."

"Oh. Yeah, there's one. Uh, want me to describe her?"

"Please."

"Long black hair, green eyes, dressed in a white shirt and black shorts."

"Anything particular about her? Scars, marks, tattoos?"

"She's got some crazy ink on her legs. Markings about half way up her calves. Look like smoke, or flames, somethin'. Other than that, nothin' special."

"Is she watching us?"

"Uh, lemme check—"

"I _am_ watching you," an unfamiliar voice said to Fujitora's right. "You've been cheated out of your winnings three rounds, now. Your friend has been collecting your earnings."

"You bitch!"

There was sudden movement behind him, reaching over to his right, and some shuffling and then the sound of a solid punch to the jaw, followed shortly after by the thud of a body hitting the floor.

"You shouldn't rip off blind old men," the woman said. "You also shouldn't hit women, but I think ripping off blind old men who can't protect themselves is worse than trying to hit a woman who can kick your ass."

Over the sound of his ex-friend cursing the woman to the ends of the earth, she redirected her attention to Fujitora.

"Sir, if you'd like to continue playing, I'll tell you the correct color you land on."

"That would be wonderful," Fujitora said sincerely. "Thank you."

The chair to his right pulled out with a screech and someone sat in it. He could tell from the sounds of the action that she was of a smaller frame, was wearing comfortable cotton clothing, and was fluid in her movements.

"A woman who can, in your words, kick ass," pondered Fujitora aloud. "Not terribly common."

"More common than you would think in my line of work."

"Which would be?"

"Just a lowly bartender," was the easy reply. "I have to break up fights all the time. Gets pretty annoying."

Fujitora was listening very carefully to her voice, diction, and syntax. She was definitely not someone he had met before—he remembered voices uncannily well. Her response had been swift but casual, either one she practiced often or the truth. She did not have a regional accent. Not much else he could deduce.

"My friend was saying that you have some significant tattoos on your legs," Fujitora remarked.

"Oh, those aren't tattoos," she answered, "I just mark up my legs when I'm bored."

"I see," he said slowly, unsure of what to believe. "I was about to say, young women do not commonly have markings on their bodies unless they're of a certain, different line of work."

She laughed. "Sir, I think you're living in an archaic time. Women can do whatever the fuck they want with their bodies."

Her word usage was interesting. She cursed, but used _Sir_. She vocalized all syllables of each word without skimping the ends, and some sentences were so pristine that Fujitora could practically see the punctuation in his head. But the contents of her sentences were casual, bordering crass. It was all very contradictory.

"Perhaps that is so," he replied. "It has certainly been a long time since I could see anything. Times have changed."

"Indeed," she said breezily. "For example, I would've never pegged a Supreme Admiral of the Marines to just be casually gambling in the middle of the day, getting ripped off by some idiots. Really, times have changed, mm?"

Fujitora had the presence of mind to conceal his surprise. He had expected the banter to continue a bit longer; if this woman was a pirate, and it seemed more and more likely that she was, the last thing he would've expected was for her to actually approach him.

"Admiral Fujitora," she said, her tone surprisingly respectful. "What are you doing here?"

"…And to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

"No one you know, _sir_ ," she said, the address now acidic.

"I'm afraid I can't divulge important information to strangers," he said. "If you, however, enlighten me on who you are, we can perhaps discuss things in more detail."

His guest did not reply immediately. He heard her drink and swallow; judging from the scent of vodka and lime, it was a Kamikaze.

"I've heard you're a pretty swell guy," she commented. "Your underlings like you, you advocate for commoners, and you have a fairly good track record for not being a thoughtless Absolute Justice robot when it comes to your interactions with pirates."

"You have heard correctly."

"So…honorable guy?"

"I try to be. Are you an honorable woman?"

"Not a chance."

"I appreciate the honesty. Your name?"

"I go by Hurricane," she said, voice soft enough that others couldn't overhear. "I'm an intel broker."

Now _this_ was unexpected. Hurricane was a name that floated among the Underworld for being a good contact if you wanted to find out any particular secret, from unearthing trivial infidelities to entire coup d'états. They were notoriously difficult to contact, and even then there was no guarantee they would take the case, but when they did, they always got results. They were also rumored to be behind the huge report, the Ohara Revelation, that had revealed to the world what had happened to the island of Ohara and its scholars over twenty years ago. Fujitora had attributed a small portion of his hiring to the report; the Marines had been anxious to balance out their Admirals with one who was known to be more lax about Absolute Justice, especially in comparison to their newly appointed and notoriously rigid Fleet Admiral.

"Prove it," said Fujitora cautiously.

"I recognized you at first glance, didn't I? Civilians and most pirates wouldn't."

"Still doesn't prove much."

"Hm…fine…oh, people know I wrote the Ohara Revelation, right? I got the information from the Marine Library, the secret logs are located on the seventeenth floor of Headquarters behind the giant Shabondy landscape painting next to the Supreme Admirals' office. Does that work?"

It did. It was disturbing that she knew the Marine base's layout, but the Ohara Revelation hadn't been groundbreaking for no reason.

"I didn't think you were a woman," admitted Fujitora.

"No one does. You're the first to know."

"What an honor. So you're here now to…"

"Ah-ah," she said chidingly. "I gave you a big secret. Your turn. What's a Supreme Admiral doing here today?"

Fujitora thought carefully. Controlling the dissemination of information was extremely important. He was not a big fan of dealing with crooks and criminals and truly did not know very much about the Underworld, but recent events were escalating quickly, with rumors of Aokiji now being involved with Blackbeard. Fujitora knew that connections were important, and as distasteful as the underground network was, he was also well aware of the degree of corruption that existed in the World Government and by extension the Marines. The false news that Doflamingo released and the movement of the Cipher Pol fleet this morning unsettled him. Even if Fujitora did not eliminate Doflamingo today, he had to take precautions for the future, especially when he apparently could not trust official reports from the World News.

This woman was a mere intel broker and bartender. She did not technically count as a fugitive.

"I received orders to come here today in anticipation for an exchange of either services or information between Doflamingo and Trafalgar Law that is to occur at fifteen o'clock on the island of Green Bit. It seems that in return for Caesar Clown, Doflamingo would give up his position as Shichibukai and King of Dressrosa."

"But the news was fake."

"Indeed. I was summoned to arrest the Strawhat crew and determine if this alliance between Trafalgar Law and the Strawhats is true. If so, I am to revoke Trafalgar Law's position and arrest him as well."

"How was Doflamingo able to mobilize CP9 and control the World News?"

"He is of Noble descent. His father was a Tenryuubito who revoked his status and tried to live in the world as a normal human. Things did not go well, and it was Doflamingo who killed his own father and managed to climb back into the ranks by blackmailing the World Leaders. The Nobles cannot touch him."

He understood her stunned pause.

"Wow, _fuck_ ," she breathed.

"Not many people know this information."

"Obviously not," she muttered. "It sounds ridiculous."

"If you are truly the author of the Ohara Revelation, then you'll have the means to verify my story. The Donquixote Family was one of the originating twenty families who created the World Government. It's been blotted out of most recent history books, but you should be able to find sources."

"He's not really my primary interest, but I'll do that when I have time. You're here to help Doflamingo then, nothing else?"

"I would not say 'help.' But he is not my current target, no."

"I see. Well, this was enlightening. Thank you very much, Admiral. Pleasure doing business with you."

"Do you have a calling card of sorts?"

He heard her laugh. "You want to deal with the Underworld? Things really have changed for the Marines."

"I'd like to know truths without them being obscured by higher-ups. Sometimes we must deal with minor demons to conquer Hell."

"Calling me a minor demon is not very flattering."

"I apologize. Major demon?"

She laughed again. "If you send out the right sources, I'll get the message."

"I am sorry you can't seem to trust me, despite that I provided you with very scandalous information and all you provided was your identity."

"My identity is worth more than anything you said today. Like I told you—Doflamingo isn't my priority."

"Then who is?"

"Ah-ah. We are not friends. I think that's enough for today. The roulette landed on white seventeen, by the way."

"Why, thank you. Do you know how I can get my earnings?"

There was no response. Fujitora took a deep breath in, realizing that the air surrounding him suddenly felt cooler, and he knew she was gone.

* * *

It was fifteen minutes before fifteen o'clock on the shore of Green Bit and Law was waiting with growing trepidation. There was a Marine ship docked _right here_ ; he hadn't expected the Navy to be exactly here at Green Bit, and that meant there were multiple variables in his way that were unaccounted for. Meanwhile, his chosen escorts from the Strawhats, Nico and Long Nose, were nowhere to be seen. This crew was just really fucking reliable.

The sound of his Den-Den Mushi ringing almost gave him a heart attack, if his heart were actually in his chest right now. He was currently housing Caesar's heart, but given the rate that the scientist's heartbeat accelerated, they were on the same page.

"Hello?" he answered cautiously.

"Is this Trafalgar Law?" said a breezy voice he didn't recognize. The caller was using a voice alteration program, making it impossible for him to tell if it was a man or a woman.

Law stiffened. "Who the fuck is this?"

"Oh, finally," the voice said, elongating the word into three distinct syllables. "I need to get a better Interception Mushi, I've been trying to get in contact with you for the last hour…"

"Who the fuck is this?" repeated Law dangerously.

"No one you know. I'm just giving you a courtesy call, you know. You should really get out of there."

"What—"

"The news about Doflamingo resigning is fake. He's a Tenryuubito—he got the World Government to fake the news and is on his way there with a Marine Admiral in tow. You should start running."

"Who the fuck—"

"Seriously," the voice sighed, "I'm doing you a favor. Plus I couldn't intercept any of the Strawhat Mushi so tell them to get out too, would you? I've got other things to do. Thanks, bye."

There was a sudden clack, leaving Trafalgar Law royally pissed off. Who was that, and how had they gotten his contact number? Interception Mushi weren't common and were expensive as hell; his entire crew only had one that they kept on the submarine. Who the fuck carried one around with them?

Law gritted his teeth. He hated taking orders, especially from nameless people.

Still, he couldn't ignore his gut. Something was wrong, and if this mysterious voice was telling the truth, he needed to get out and fast.

Spade was just really having a terrible day. Despite getting good information from an active Admiral (and walking away unscathed), she had given up an alias and had potentially let a Marine know that Skye Spade was still alive. She was feeling hopeful though; Fujitora was not someone heavily invested in the Battle of Marineford and therefore barely knew who she was. Additionally, he had been hired to his Admiral position while being well-known as a sympathizer of the Ohara Revelation, so she doubted he would think past her identity as Hurricane.

She had never been so thankful for someone's blindness; any other high-ranking Marine would have recognized her instantly.

She'd spend the rest of the afternoon in a stifling hot cloak and hood, trying not to attract attention and simultaneously not die of heat stroke. It had been a smart precaution, because members of the Strawhat crew had run past her several times throughout the day. Franky's gigantic robot body (he'd gotten more upgrades in the last two years) and Sanji (chasing after a beautiful dancer, nothing had changed) had run past her without a second glance. Zoro, who had somehow lost an eye since the last time she'd seen him, seemed to look at her suspiciously as she walked past him, but he was focused on retrieving something and thankfully did not stop.

And then there was Luffy, who at the news of the Mera Mera no Mi, had blown right past her toward the Colosseum. He looked healthy and determined.

She should've just left Dressrosa completely after that, knowing that the Mera Mera no Mi was safe if Luffy was after it, but it struck her as odd that half of the Strawhat Crew was on the Dressrosa mainland while the other half was off at Green Bit with Law. What was the point of splitting up if the goal was to drop off Caesar? Law did not strike her as the naïve type; surely he knew that there was a possibility of Doflamingo reneging the agreement. Why wouldn't he want to have the Strawhat Captain beside him for additional fighting power?

She'd given Law a heads-up, not bothering to go to Green Bit herself, and instead had settled into the terribly loud and crowded stands of the Colosseum to watch the gladiator bloodbath. The Mera Mera no Mi was hidden in a chest behind the announcer's stands. Spade was starting to feel lightheaded being surrounded by so many disgusting sweaty men and was trying to devise a plan to steal the chest when her Interceptor Den Den Mushi suddenly rang.

Oh. Law was calling her back. He must have an expensive Den Den Mushi to be able to call her back on what was supposed to be an untraceable number, but truthfully she'd bought this Interceptor for cheap on the black market and was not all that surprised to find that she'd been scammed in its quality.

"Hello," she said, tucking the receiver inconspicuously under her hood.

"Who are you, and how did you know?" Law demanded, sounding out of breath like he was running very quickly somewhere.

"Does it matter?" she said wryly. "You're asking the wrong questions."

"Of course it fucking matters—how the fuck am I supposed to trust you?"

"You're not," she said curtly as she concentrated on the battle that was happening in front of her. Jesus Burgess was in this group. Blackbeard really was trying to get his hands on Ace's fruit— _fuck that guy_. She had been picking off bits and pieces of Blackbeard's fleet when she came across them, but nothing on the level of a Division Commander. Maybe Burgess could be her first significant blow to Blackbeard's armed forces.

"Why'd you tip me off?"

"Felt like it. What do you want now, Trafalgar Law?"

"I need to know if you're helping us or not."

"I'm kind of…" she said slowly, eyes narrowed as she watched Burgess smash several of his opponents out of the ring entirely. "But not really. I'm not on Doflamingo's side, if that's what you're getting at."

"Fuck this," muttered Law under his breath. In the background static, Spade heard someone squeal in pain. "Shut up."

"Oh, is that Caesar? You still have him?" she said. "Good job."

"Look, you know way too much information to not be involved, and goddamn if this is a shitty idea but I don't have a lot of options. If you're helping, I can't get in contact with Strawhat or his first mate. I need to know if they've located and destroyed the Factory yet."

Spade paused, now distracted from the fight with this brand new information. "What Factory?"

"There's an underground factory below Dressrosa that produces something called SMILE, an agent Caesar developed that creates fake Zoan Devil's Fruits. We need to get rid of it."

Spade thought quickly and aloud. "Doflamingo is supplying Kaidou with Devil's Fruits. I'd heard Kaidou was growing an army of Users…oh…wow. That makes so much sense now."

"You really know _way too much_ ," snapped Law. "Look, I don't know who the fuck you are but my gut is telling me you're on our side. I need you to help."

"Kaidou isn't really my business," she said honestly. "Right now I have slightly different fish to fry."

She wished she could absorb Ace's Devil's Fruit. Then she _literally_ could fry Burgess _._

" _They've been testing on kids_!" he shouted angrily. "Doflamingo's been terrorizing this country for over a decade—if you didn't care about someone here, me or the Strawhats or the people living here, then you wouldn't have tipped me off. _Get the factory. Please_."

Spade let out a breath. Law sounded pressured, serious, and quite unlike what she had thought of him initially. He was no Luffy, but she was starting to see why Luffy had been willing to team up with him. Law cared about strangers, to some extent.

This really was turning out to be a terrible day. She should've just flown back home and told Marco she hadn't found anything.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks."

He hung up immediately.

Marco had been right. She shouldn't have judged before meeting the guy.

* * *

Trafalgar Law was truly and royally fucked. He took back all the thanks that he had given the gods yesterday for keeping him alive on Punk Hazard and was now mentally flicking them all off because really, _what part of today had gone right_? He had thought of every single outcome possible in the grand "Kill Doflamingo" plan but how the fuck was he supposed to guess that _he had Noble blood_?

At least Caesar was safely on the Thousand Sunny, and it sounded like shit was going down at the SMILE Factory. These were the two positives that Law could focus on as he bled from multiple bullet wounds, an amputated right arm, and massive internal bleeding from Doflamingo's Haki-infused kicks. Law had to be impressed with himself—he was still conscious despite being in an insane amount of pain and active hemorrhaging.

But _fuck_. He had hit his last fatal combination, from the Gamma Knife that was supposed to dissolve Doflamingo's internal organs to the Counter Strike that was supposed to knock him out completely. Law could barely stay awake, let alone move. So how was Doflamingo _still_ alive?

"I can do simple first aid, you know," the King of Dressrosa snarled, as if knowing exactly what Law was wondering. "With enough time, I can repair my internal organs with my strings…that's what true powers are for, Law. But thanks for the kamikaze-ing." Doflamingo raised his stupid black heel over Law's face, blocking out all vision except for the sole that was going to smash his head to smithereens. "I'll be sure you're sent off properly this time!"

 _God fucking dammit_. This was it. It was over, he hadn't been able to kill Doflamingo even though he'd been _so fucking close_ —sorry, Corazon, he hadn't been able to accomplish their goal—

Doflamingo's foot was mere inches away from his face before someone intercepted, the force of the block stopping Doflamingo in his tracks. Law could see a heavily tattooed leg in what could only be a woman's heeled ankle boot.

"Who the fuck are you?" snarled Doflamingo.

Law's savior was covered in a tan, desert cloak that hooded her face. She stayed surprisingly steady as Doflamingo's Haki swelled. Law swore he could hear some kind of mechanical whirring as she pushed back against Doflamingo's foot—he could sense her own Haki grow in retaliation but knew it wasn't enough—

"Get out of here!" he shouted.

Like a trigger, his words made Doflamingo's Haki surge and plummet downward. Law felt himself be whipped away immediately, right before Doflamingo's foot changed direction and went hurtling toward the newcomer instead.

Warm winds surrounded Law, bracing him against what should've been a serious impact against the rubble on the palace roof. The woman had brought him out of Doflamingo's immediate range, sacrificing her cloak in the process, which had been shredded to pieces by Doflamingo's strings.

Law looked up at the new challenger, who had since straightened up and was facing away from him. Her legs were covered in black spiraling tattoos up to her mid-calf and peering over the edge of her tank top was half of another tattoo on her back, what looked like a spade with the letters ASCE emblazoned in the middle, surrounded by flames that licked her shoulder blades like wings.

"Ho-ho-ho!" cackled Doflamingo delightedly. "Now _that's_ a face I was not expecting! I'd heard you were dead."

"I really would've preferred it that way," said Skye Spade dryly. "But since I'm back now…surprise."

* * *

 _free talk_ :

 _sorry, still kind of a slow introductory chapter. one of the hardest things about writing OP fics is that there's so much that goes on in canon, and because there's so much political brilliance happening, it's hard to incorporate all that in the fic without some explanations._

 _hope you enjoyed, and please review!_

 _xoxo,  
m.n_


	3. Undercurrent

**Chapter 3: Undercurrent**

Spade was angry. She was truly, honestly, _so angry_ at herself, at Luffy, at Doflamingo, and especially at Trafalgar fucking Law because showing herself to Doflamingo meant all the work and preparation and secrecy she had accomplished over the last two years had instantly evaporated.

She had set up an Underworld reputation and had just made connections with a current Admiral, for fuck's sake! All for what? For Ace's stupid Devil's Fruit, which she'd just managed to get her hands on before running into both Luffy and some Revolutionary Army brat named Sabo who claimed to be Luffy and Ace's sworn brother. The fact that his long-lost brother was here to inherit Ace's will meant Luffy had been so overwhelmed with emotion that he'd barely dwelled on Spade's sudden reappearance, and had instead begged Spade to _give up the Fruit_ to this Revolutionary Army brat, and _then_ he'd had the gall to ask her to help save Trafalgar fucking Law because he was too busy beating up some nameless pirate being controlled by Doflamingo, not to mention she had wasted the majority of her afternoon trying to figure out where the SMILE factory was and how to destroy it when she could've been destroying Burgess's ship instead— _only to find out that the rest of the Strawhats had handled the Factory already_.

She wanted to scream.

"Skye Spade," grinned Doflamingo. "So where've ya been these last two years?"

"Bartending," she answered shortly.

"Oh, I'm sure you've been up to more than that. Where's Whitebeard's sorry crew now?"

"In hell, where I'll probably join them tomorrow," she said scathingly. She needed to breathe, to recalibrate so she could think clearly. Doflamingo's Haki was scary; she hadn't faced someone so strong in a while.

"I should've guessed someone from the Whitebeard crew would show up for the Mera Mera no Mi," Doflamingo said. "I kinda forgot about them, since no one's heard of them for a while. Everyone says Marco the Phoenix is dead."

She hadn't even gotten the stupid Fruit. Marco was going to be _so pissed_.

"Move aside, Skye Spade," said Doflamingo. "I don't know what business you have with that trash heap behind you but I intend to finish the job I started."

"Hey."

Spade glanced behind her at the supposed trash heap that had just spoken. Law looked really terrible. His arm had been ripped off, he was bleeding profusely, and he looked like he wasn't going to last another ten minutes given the extreme pale sheen that was covering his face. His eyes were dark and shadowed; the poor man needed to get some sleep, if he lived long enough to.

"Luffy told me to come," she explained in response to his unasked question.

"Were you the one who tipped me off?"

"Yeah," she said, regretting everything and trying to be resigned to her fate now that Luffy and the rest of the world knew she was alive.

"How—"

"Later," she said. "I'm supposed to get you out."

"You're not going anywhere!" Doflamingo screeched, his threads coiling together in straight bolts toward them.

Spade brought a roaring cyclone down right in front of her, twisting the threads into a messy knot before dashing forward. Luffy said he'd be up immediately once he took care of Bellamy, so Spade's goal was to distract, delay, and then dash away with Law as soon as she could.

She wished she were fighting alone. Doflamingo was not a problem for her if she could just let his threads pass through her Logia form, but that meant giving him free access to Law's immobile body, which made things slightly more complicated.

Spade ran forward onto the offensive, her kick meeting Doflamingo's leg in a forceful clash. She followed up immediately, using her upper body as a spring to flip backward only so she could reset with a flurry of kicks; Doflamingo parried each one almost effortlessly, his Haki reinforcing his limbs as Spade continued to pound on him.

With some force, she levitated a piece of the rubble behind Doflamingo to go flying toward him—the Shichibukai replaced himself with a clone right before the collision, forcing Spade to dematerialize as the real one attempted to impale her from above.

"That's an annoying ability," scowled Doflamingo.

"Figured Logias aren't your favorite to fight against," agreed Spade. "I guess your Haki can neutralize most of us, but I think you're a bit tired. It looks like I can keep up with you for now."

"Arrogance!"

Spade felt his Haki burst and gritted her teeth to retaliate, but Doflamingo forced her to solidify just as a blazing cord whipped onto her shoulder.

"Shit," she hissed in pain, skidding away and waving her hand so that three smaller tornadoes bolted toward Doflamingo's head.

He barely dodged, forcing him into a corner that Spade leapt toward, her arm forming a swirling wind crescent that she cut him through with, only to reveal a clone of string. She dematerialized immediately, bursting her Haki protectively and correctly predicting his back-attack.

"You manipulate your Haki well," said Doflamingo, panting slightly, "but your reserves are weak."

It was a correct observation. She had always had difficulty keeping up with Haki ever since she'd learned how to use it; it was something Marco had been training her on extensively, but unlike her hand-to-hand combat, it did not improve as quickly.

"TRAFAL-GUY! AVA!"

Luffy launched himself in front of her, covered in blood but looking furious as he saw Law's state.

"WHAT DID YOU DO, FAKE MINGO?" the Strawhat bellowed.

"Tch, just one annoyance right after the other…"

"I'm out, Luffy," Spade said. "I'll get the surgeon."

Spade grabbed Law by his waist with one arm and found Law's dismembered appendage with the other ( _God, this was so weird_ ). She jumped immediately off the roof of the palace, her winds slowing the fall.

"GET BACK HERE!" shrieked Doflamingo, his threads plummeting down after them at an aggressive speed.

Oh fuck, she couldn't dematerialize because she had Law and she couldn't parry because _she had Law_. The surgeon's weak grasp on her waist tightened momentarily as he lifted up his left hand.

"Room."

They were immediately surrounded in a blue orb.

"Shambles."

Spade felt her body lurch unpleasantly out of place before she found herself on the ground, Law right beside her. She felt oddly out of breath as the sensation of falling abruptly stopped, leaving a weird sensation in her stomach.

"What the—"

"Spade?" said a familiar voice in awe.

Spade turned to find Nico Robin rushing toward her, flanked by a blonde, flamboyant man with annoyingly clear skin, a samurai of sorts, and a…very small girl.

"Robin," she said in relief, smiling as the historian approached.

"We'll catch up later," Robin said with a quick smile in return, "but it's good to see you. Captain Law looks to be in terrible shape."

"Yeah," breathed Law, "I've been better."

"Anyone know emergency first aid or some magic shit?" Spade asked, waving Law's dismembered arm around. "Would help to sew this back on."

"I can help sew, but it will be messy," the samurai said, bending down over Law's amputated arm and beginning to work.

"My tears will be able to heal the rest!" the tiny girl piped up in an absolutely adorable manner.

"Tears…?"

"This city has historically had dwarves," Robin explained. "This is the dwarf princess; her tears have healing powers."

"That's…convenient," Spade said as she sat down next to Law. "I'll work on his other wounds, I think he got shot."

"No need," Law said, pushing her arm away. "I've…managed them."

"How—"

"I'm a doctor," he said with irritating matter-of-factness despite that he was bleeding all over the ground.

Sure enough, there were three lead bullets in his outstretched palm. Spade had no idea when he'd removed them, but apparently getting shot and removing bullets from his body was routine for him.

"Great," said Spade acidly. "Anything else we can do for you, then?"

"I need…to get back up there," Law said weakly, making a movement to sit up. "I can't let Strawhat fight by himself…when I brought him into this mess."

Spade pushed him by the shoulder very lightly and Law collapsed back onto the ground with little resistance.

"You're going to die if you keep moving," Spade said serenely. "Trust Luffy."

"I do!" said Law with surprising energy. "But this is my fault—if he's going to defeat Doflamingo, I want to see it with my own eyes. And if Doflamingo kills him…I'll die next to him."

Spade felt strange. Her chest ached, and all of a sudden she was seeing Ace again, saw his bloody smile as he died, knowing that he had protected his little brother with his dying breath. Law was looking at her with a different kind of ferocity, almost desperation that she truly had not expected of him. She didn't know why it had triggered the vision of Ace; the situations weren't remotely similar. But something about Law's expression made her stomach turn. She did not know why Law felt so strongly about this, why he'd gone through what seemed like years of extensive planning all for the moment to crush Doflamingo. She barely knew this man at all; she didn't feel right being privy to what was clearly one of the most pivotal moments of his life.

Law was struggling to sit up again, and Spade pushed him back down.

"Rest," she said tonelessly. "You're a doctor. You of all people shouldn't be throwing away your life stupidly."

"I'm not—"

"I'll stay with you," she interrupted. "I'll bring you up in a bit. But right now you need to rest, let your arm mend and your Haki replenish. There's a difference between fighting for a cause and fighting stupidly only to get slaughtered."

Something about her tone must've registered, for Law's dark eyes lit up briefly before he merely nodded as if he understood, even though she was sure he didn't.

She felt a light, reassuring pat on her shoulder and found Robin looking down at her kindly, as if she knew what was going through Spade's head.

 _I'm sorry about what happened to Ace_ , her expression said.

Spade smiled sadly. She was sorry, too.

* * *

The word _fuck_ and all its variants occupied approximately sixty percent of Spade's thoughts today. Luffy had emerged from his battle victorious, confirming Law's prediction that Monkey D. Luffy was indeed a man who performed miracles. His crew, along with Law and Spade, had safely relocated to a small home belonging to an old gladiator named Kyros. Despite the victory, that all of the Donquixote executives had been arrested, and that there had been only minor civilian injuries from Doflamingo's bird cage, Spade was still quietly furious with herself and with her situation. Law and Luffy may have gotten everything that they'd wanted out of the battle, but the more Spade thought about it, the more she had lost.

Every major player now knew she was alive, from the Marines to the Revolutionary Army to most likely Blackbeard as well. She had not obtained Ace's Devil's Fruit. She had not destroyed Burgess's crew, and had even lost sight of Burgess himself in the aftermath of the battle.

And to make matters worse, there was a very good chance that Fujitora had pieced together that she was Hurricane, thereby ruining her Underworld network.

Spade sat outside Kyros's home on top of its roof, keeping watch as she smoked a cigarette under the midnight sky. It was a bad habit that she had picked up after Ace had died and she tried not to smoke frequently, but sometimes she just needed it to help de-stress. The burn in her lungs and the watering in her eyes oddly helped her relax, but really it was the smell of smoke that reminded her of Ace that did the most work. If giving herself cancer just so she could remember her dead lover wasn't pathetic, she didn't know what was.

She took one last drag of her cigarette and stamped it out on the roof. She was glad that nighttime in Dressrosa was cool with lovely zephyrs. The group below her was busy talking to Sabo and making sure the heavily injured Luffy and Law were cared for and sleeping soundly. She knew the Strawhats, especially Zoro, wanted to talk to her and demand where she had been for the last two years, why she hadn't heeded Luffy's message to return to Shabondy. Lucky for her, Robin seemed to understand that Spade was incredibly frustrated with the progression of events today and had kept Zoro at bay while Spade had slipped outside.

Spade almost let out an audible groan. Marco was going to be so disappointed with her, and knowing that made her feel like shit. She didn't dare call him now, but the news of the battle had already been disseminated through the world, especially with Fujitora's scandalous apology to King Riku, the true ruler of Dressrosa. She would have to contact Marco eventually, and though she knew he simply iterate that he was glad she was safe, they both knew that they had lost a considerable amount today.

She reached into her pocket to take out another cigarette. It was a chain-smoking kind of night. She was just about to light it when someone suddenly hopped onto the roof to join her.

"Need a light?" Sabo said, his hand outstretched with a bright, flickering flame burning in his palm.

The blatant display of the Mera Mera no Mi made Spade instantly want to kill him.

"No," she said coldly as she used her own lighter.

Sabo seemed to understand that he had crossed a boundary and smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry, that was kind of a dick move," he said. "I just…I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she muttered.

"Is it all right if we talk a bit?"

He did not wait for her answer and instead sat down next to her.

"I didn't get the chance to introduce myself earlier," he said. "I'm Sabo, I'm second-in-command at the Revolutionary Army."

"I know," Spade said calmly.

"I know it's pretty crazy but Ace, Luffy and I all grew up together. I don't know if Ace ever talked about me but the reason why I—"

"I overheard you explaining to the others," she cut in. "You had amnesia until you saw the news of Ace's death. Seems convenient to me, but Luffy believes you, and he said he wouldn't want anyone else to have his brother's fruit and inherit his will. Wasn't like I could say much else."

"Of course you could," Sabo said. "I mean, it makes sense you'd want to determine who Ace's power would go to. You sacrificed a lot today trying to get it, and I know you don't trust me and it seems really convenient of me to get it but I swear to you, I only want to carry out Ace's will with this power. I…he really was a brother to me. Luffy, too. If dying now meant Ace could come back to life, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

Sabo spoke so earnestly that Spade believed him. It did not make her appreciate what had transpired any more, and she still wished that she had the Fruit herself because she'd rather have Marco and Ace's old family decide who would have his Fruit. Or better yet, she would've just thrown it into the ocean where no one could find it so no one could use Ace's fire and she would not have to fully recognize that Ace was truly gone and his power had been transferred.

She must have been giving off the impression that she wanted to be comforted, for Sabo placed a hand on her bare shoulder as a gesture of kindness. His touch was scorching and way too familiar; Spade jerked away immediately, eyes flashing.

"Don't touch me," she snapped.

Sabo looked surprised and slightly hurt. She knew she wasn't supposed to blame him, that Sabo was honestly just trying to get her blessing to use the Mera Mera power. Something about his expression made her start to word-vomit just how exactly she was feeling.

"You might not realize it," she said almost angrily, "but your skin feels like it's on fire. It's what…it's what Ace felt like. I know you're not him and I know you're being sincere but it's just…I saw you use Hiken today and now you feel like him but you're not him and I miss him and I messed up a lot of things today and just…today's been a lot to process."

By the time she stopped talking, she sounded less forceful and more…just…sad. Sabo looked at her so kindly that Spade wanted to cry, but she barely knew the man and had really only cried in front of Marco for the last two years, so she kept it together.

"I'm sorry," Sabo said softly.

"I know it's really pathetic." It'd been two years already, for fuck's sake. She didn't know why she was still like this.

"It's not. I know you and Ace really loved each other. Hearing you talk about him, I know he meant so much to you, and that seeing his power go to someone else is hard. I just wanted to let you know that I swear on Ace's grave, on everything that is near and dear to me, that I will never abuse his power and am going to live every day carrying out his will."

Spade drew in a deep breath of her cigarette and let it out slowly.

"It's a promise then," she said quietly.

"I know it's probably not my place to say and this is a bit creepy, but I tried to do everything I could to understand what Ace's life had been like, the life that I'd missed out on. And from everything I gathered, and seeing you today, I'm glad Ace chose you."

Spade smiled wryly. "I chose him, too."

"That's true," laughed Sabo. He stood up and straightened his hat. "It was good to finally meet you, Miss Spade."

"Just Spade is fine."

"Please take care of Luffy when you can. And if you're in touch with the Whitebeard Pirates…I think we can talk about alliances if needed. Do you have a Vivre card?"

"No."

"Oh, okay. Well, Miss Robin knows how to contact us if you need to. You're kind of hard to find, though, so you may want to consider making a Vivre card."

"I prefer not being able to be found," Spade smirked. "I'll get in contact with you. Don't worry."

"Good. I'll be going then."

"You're not waiting for Luffy to wake up?"

"Nah, I got to see him and that's enough for me. I have some things I have to report back to base, and I'm sure we'll all meet again. Stay safe, Spade."

She nodded in farewell and watched as Sabo soared away on a flock of crows. She puffed on her cigarette in silence for several minutes, regulating her heartbeat and trying to get her emotions under control again.

As she stamped out her cig, she spoke.

"You can come out, I know you're there."

Zoro scoffed as he jumped onto the roof and took the seat next to her that Sabo had just vacated.

"Some things never change, first-mate," she mused. "You're always eavesdropping."

"Can never learn anything about you otherwise," he said with a grin.

"What happened to your eye?" she asked.

"What happened to _you_?" he shot back.

She just smiled silently and offered him a smoke, which he pushed away with disgust.

"You're still the same, Spade," he said. "Still don't trust us."

"Not true," she murmured, waving the cigarette. "I've changed a lot."

He looked at her as she lit it; he looked concerned, but seemed to understand that she was not in the mood for further conversation. He must've heard her word-vomit and was therefore feeling bad, because the Zoro she remembered was supposed to be much more persistent.

"Ugh, I'll harass you tomorrow," he groaned, laying down next to her and crossing his bulky arms under his head. "Gonna get some sleep. Wake me up if the Marines come."

"Sure thing."

And just like that, nothing had changed.

* * *

Admiral Fujitora was drinking his morning tea when he was paid a surprise visit in his hotel room by a familiar warm wind, the scent of floral perfume, and new to the mix, cigarette smoke. He should have been smarter about leaving his window open, but he was a man who could take care of himself; the guards stationed outside his door were more of a formality than a necessity. There was no other indication that he had been joined by a visitor besides the scents, which was impressive because Fujitora thought the floorboards of his room were abnormally creaky.

"Miss Hurricane," Fujitora said pleasantly. "Or should I hazard a guess, and say Miss Spade?"

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you put it together," the voice in front of him said, sounding slightly frustrated.

"Tattoos like yours are not very common. My men recognized you immediately."

"I should start covering up more," she muttered.

"I was shocked to make the connection nonetheless. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?"

"Have you told anyone about me being Hurricane?"

"No," Fujitora said honestly. "There were more pressing matters, and I truthfully have not even made a full report about the entirety of yesterday to Headquarters yet."

"I didn't think so. Akainu would've never let you kneel in front of Broadcast Mushi and apologize to Dressrosa for failing it."

"I thought similarly, but it was important that the official Marine statement did not neglect a formal apology to this country. Ten years of terror, only to be liberated by pirates instead of the Marines? It is shameful."

"This isn't the first country Strawhat Luffy has liberated without any help from the Marines."

"You are referencing Alabasta, another country that was terrorized by a Shichibukai. That, too, was handled very poorly by us."

There was the sound of the chair across from him being pulled away from the table, and Fujitora assumed Spade had sat down.

"You are a very strange man," she remarked after a pause. "I know people like Smoker or even Aokiji rarely listened to orders they don't like, but neither of them would've ever did what you did yesterday."

"I am a blind, old man," Fujitora said. "There is not much that frightens me, and I do not care much for my reputation. I do what I believe is just, as that is what the Marines stand for."

There was another pause, the sound of plates and silverware clinking together. She had reached for his breakfast.

"Would you like a scone?" she asked. "It doesn't look like you've touched anything to eat."

"I was choosing between the blueberry and chocolate."

"I'll take blueberry. Here's a chocolate."

She handed him the scone and he bit into it appreciatively.

"What are you here for, Miss Spade? Surely not to kill me?" he joked.

"I want to make a deal," she said. "If truly no one else knows I'm Hurricane, I would like it to remain that way. I will be your Underworld contact and can get you information or disseminate it when you need it; in return, please keep this secret."

"I don't make deals with pirates, Miss Spade."

"Funny," she said icily, "I don't like dealing with Marines either. Your entire institution is a piece of shit."

"…Miss Spade, were you not once a Marine? From what I've heard, the Marines raised you, taught you how to fight, even gave you a Devil's Fruit. Do you not owe much to the Marines?"

"I owe everything I am to Kuzan alone," she said coldly, "and since you guys kicked him out too—"

"He left on his own, unfortunately."

"You lost the only source of relative morality in your top ranks when you lost him. And now look where he is—fucking with _Blackbeard_ , of all people. I don't owe you guys shit when you can't even recognize who's worth saving and who isn't."

The hatred in her voice was palpable. Fujitora had actually never met Admiral Aokiji, but his reputation as a fairly calm, collected, and respected man had made him rather popular among his men. This sentiment seemed to be shared by Spade, but her loathing of the Marines appeared to be on a completely different level.

"Was Portgas D. Ace worth saving?" he asked, perhaps stupidly because he already knew the answer and also knew what reaction this question would elicit.

There was a long silence after his question. Fujitora wondered if Spade had left completely, which would be unfortunate because he would've lost a major resource, or if she was currently deciding how she would kill him. Neither happened: the warm breeze continued to blow and Fujitora sensed no surge in killing intent.

"Do you want the deal or not, Admiral Fujitora?" Spade's voice came finally. It was level, quiet, and controlled—containing none of the fire he had expected.

"I would," he answered. "Your alias remains safe with me. Do you have a calling card now?"

"No, but I've been told to make one. I'll be in contact soon."

"Very well. A pleasure doing business with you, Miss Hurricane."

There was a stronger breeze, followed by the disappearance of floral and smoke. Fujitora reached across the table, searching for this breakfast plate, only to find that it was empty. She had taken the last chocolate scone.

* * *

Everything on Law's body hurt: his chest, his stomach, his haphazardly reconnected right arm. He was starving but was having difficulty keeping food down, partially because his stomach seemed to reject everything, but mostly because watching Monkey D. Luffy eat was the most disgusting thing in the world.

The Strawhat captain was trying to speak, eat, cry, and sleep all at the same time. Law did not understand a single word that was coming out of Luffy's mouth, but he did see a lot of half-chewed meat and bread and tried not to throw up in response.

All the same, Law was in no position to complain. It was hard for him to believe that Doflamingo had truly been defeated. SMILE had been destroyed, and Dressrosa had been returned to its rightful ruling family. Additionally, the crew he had allied with had suffered no casualties, and most amazingly, _Law was still alive_.

So Luffy could eat in front of him as grossly as he wanted; Law was not going to say a word.

Clearly, Strawhat's first mate thought otherwise.

"Dude, what _are you_?" Zoro said in disgust. "Are you happy, anxious, angry, or sleepy? Make up your mind!"

Luffy managed to swallow all the food in his mouth to speak clearly.

"I'm just so bummed Sabo left without saying bye! I mean I'm glad I got to see him and he's doing well but I thought he could stay a bit!"

"You've been out all day," said Zoro disapprovingly. "I'm sure he had stuff to do."

"And Ava hasn't said a word to me!" whined Luffy. "Where'd she go? I have to explain to her about Sabo because I know she was trying to get Ace's Fruit and I feel bad—"

"Sabo talked to her last night," explained Zoro. "I think she's okay with it."

Luffy looked relieved. "Okay, good. I was worried she was mad. So where is she?"

"Dunno."

"What d'you mean?! She was here yesterday, right?"

"Yeah, she was the lookout last night. Maybe she just went somewhere to sleep."

"She could've slept here!"

"Not with you being so loud," muttered Law as he chewed on a dried piece of pork. "When'd she leave, Zoro?"

"Sometime this morning. She said she had to take care of some stuff, but she'd be back."

"Marines are swarming this country," Law said. "What'd she have to do that would risk her getting caught?"

Zoro shrugged. "Beats me."

"Did she say she would come back with us?" Luffy asked hopefully.

"We didn't talk that much last night," said Zoro, "so I'm not sure."

"Wait, you didn't ask her where she's been or what she's planning?"

"She didn't seem like she was in the mood to talk," Zoro said halfheartedly. "She seemed kinda emotional."

"Oh," Luffy said in a small voice that was very uncharacteristic of him.

"Something wrong, Luffy?" the first-mate asked.

"No, it's just…" Luffy scratched his head and looked a bit sad. "I hope she comes back soon. I wanna talk with her."

"She should be. Robin's looking for her right now."

"Ooh, really?" Luffy said excitedly, his mood taking a complete one-eighty as he turned to the historian sitting in the corner of the crowded room. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be concentrating. Law pictured copies of Robin's eyes appearing on random walls throughout the city and wondered how far the Hana Hana no Mi's range was.

"It'd be helpful if you were just a little quieter, Captain," Robin said with a small smile. "I'm trying to find her in the city but she's difficult to track. I've only caught glimpses of her."

"Well, she's wind after all," Law said dubiously. "I don't see how you could find her."

Luffy turned to Law, eyes shining brightly.

"Hey, Trafal-guy! See, I told you she was part of our crew. What'd you think of her?"

"We didn't really talk," replied Law, a bit thrown by the question. He honestly hadn't made up his mind about the most recent addition to the group.

"I recall her stopping you from running back to Doflamingo and killing yourself," Robin said mildly, eyes still shut but clearly listening to the conversation with amusement.

"I wasn't gonna kill myself," Law said shortly.

"Sure."

"Does anyone know if she has a contact in this city?" said Law, determined to change the subject. "She tipped me off yesterday before the exchange with Doflamingo—she knew that the news had been fake and that he was a Tenryuubito."

"Really?" said Robin, surprised and finally opening her eyes. "I lost her, Captain, but I think she's heading back now." She turned back to Law. "How'd she know?"

"No idea," he said. "I've done my fair share of research on Doflamingo but hadn't come across that at all. Figured she must have a pretty significant contact in the Marines or World Government."

"I guess that's not surprising," hummed Robin. "I really should've pieced it together earlier; Donquixote was certainly the name of one of the original founding families. I just didn't make the connection."

"It's not listed at all in the books I read," Law said.

"Mm, I'm thinking of some fairly old sources, but it certainly was mentioned. That was my mistake."

"Why did you say it wasn't surprising she had a contact?"

"Hm, well, it seems information gathering is a hobby of hers…"

Law did not understand why Nico Robin was so cryptic sometimes, but before he could verbalize this irritation, his mind made the connection on its own.

"Oh, shit. You said you thought she was Hurricane."

"For fuck's sake, Robin." A blast of wind tore through the open window and Spade suddenly appeared in front of them, an iced coffee and chocolate scone in hand as she looked at the historian irritably. "How the hell did you know that?"

"Ava!" Luffy said happily, ignoring his wounds as he wrapped his rubbery arms around Spade's profile.

Now that Law was not actively dying, he took the time to study Skye Spade. She was a bit shorter than Nico Robin despite wearing ankle boots with a solid heel; she was in the same outfit from yesterday, a white tank-top and dark shorts cinched at the waist with a leather belt. A loose braid of black hair was slung across her left shoulder. Her right shoulder was bandaged tightly, but she appeared to still have full range of motion as she was using it to eat her scone. As she lifted the pastry up to her lips, Law saw another tattoo on her right inner arm of what looked like a phoenix; it disappeared when she let her arm fall back to her side. She looked about Law's age, if not slightly younger, but her expression made her look worn. She did not possess the sexual gravitas that Nami the Navigator had or the bookish beauty of Nico Robin, but Law did not mind looking at her.

"Hey, Luffy," Spade said with reserved affection as she hugged him back quickly. "It's been a long time. You've gotten stronger again."

"It's so good to see you! Why didn't you come back with us? We would've had so much fun! What've you been up to?"

"I've been busy," she said vaguely. "Speaking of, Robin, really, how did you guess that I was Hurricane?"

"Everyone knows Hurricane wrote the Ohara Revelation. And who else would contact me directly?"

"Ah, fuck. I guess it was obvious for you. I tried so hard to keep it quiet otherwise." Spade bit her lower lip and looked around the room. "Who else knows?"

"Just our crew. And Captain Law."

Spade's eyes narrowed as she finally saw the surgeon, as if noticing for the first time that he was even present.

"I guess I can formally introduce myself, now that we're not all dying," Law said dryly. "I'm Trafalgar Law, Captain of the Heart Pirates. I'm not a Shichibukai anymore so no need to state that title."

"I know who you are. And it was just you who was dying," Spade said coolly.

Law's right eyebrow twitched, but he didn't say anything.

"Is your arm all right?" she asked.

Law flexed his right arm instinctively, ignoring the jolt of pain that it sent up his shoulder.

"As good as it can be after getting torn off," he said.

"Yeah, you got lucky," she said in that same annoying tone. "I'd appreciate it if you kept the part about me being Hurricane to yourself. I've spent all morning trying to salvage what I could of my situation, and that might be the only thing that I can protect right now."

"I don't follow other people's orders," retorted Law. He did not know why this woman riled him so; perhaps it was because she had just rubbed in his face that he had required her assistance yesterday while being on the brink of death.

Spade's eyes glinted. "It was a suggestion. I figured since I helped you out so much yesterday, the least you could do was keep your mouth shut."

"I will if you tell me who your contact is," replied Law smoothly.

"What contact?"

"The one who told you about Doflamingo."

"No."

The blunt response made Law get the feeling that Spade deeply resented him. That didn't make much sense, though, especially since he had literally met the woman only the day before.

"I think you've gotten enough from me in the last twenty-four hours," she said thinly.

Luffy laughed loudly, completely misreading the mood as the temperature in the cabin became chilly. "You sure did! It's okay, Trafal-guy will keep your secret. I trust him."

"You trust everyone," groaned Zoro. "But seriously Spade, Trafalgar's okay."

Law did not like how everyone was just offering up his silence like it was something they owned, especially when none of them seemed to understand that having an Underworld connection was extremely valuable. He was not going to stay mum because she had asked, but instead because she was someone he could use down the line.

"Don't worry," he said. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Good," she said coolly. "So if news slips out otherwise, I'll know to rip your tongue out first."

Law's finger twitched, and immediately the entire cabin was captured in a blue orb.

"Room."

Spade stared back at him fearlessly.

"You should think twice before threatening me. I think I have the better skill-set to rip off a body part, Miss Spade," Law said coldly.

"I'd like to see you try."

Law only flexed his index finger and the iced coffee in Spade's hand was replaced by a heavy stone from the roof. The surprising weight change only startled her for a millisecond before she instantly brought her right leg up to smash the rocks into pieces. Law unsheathed his nodachi, ready for Spade to enter close-quarter combat, but was surprised to see that Spade simply remained where she stood.

"You're mortally wounded and we still need to get off this island later," she said, answering his unspoken confusion. "We'll both need the energy, plus I don't fight for stupid reasons. Just give me back my coffee and I'll leave you in one piece."

Law supinated his right arm and the coffee once again reappeared in Spade's hand.

"Whew," Luffy said as the blue shimmer around the cabin disappeared. "Glad you guys are friends now!"

Someone really needed to check if the Strawhat's head was screwed on correctly. Still, his crewmembers seemed to understand the tension. Zoro placed a hand on Spade's shoulder, and Robin stepped in front of Law.

"Spade," said Zoro irritably, "you didn't need to go pickin' a fight."

"And Captain Law, you more than anyone else here should understand what exactly Spade gave up by revealing herself yesterday," added Robin.

"…Fine," Law relented. "Thank you for saving my life yesterday. I appreciate your help. You don't need to worry about your alias."

Spade's eyes flickered, and she looked slightly confused, as if she had expected more resistance. Something told Law that she was used to more confrontation, but Law was honestly a reasonable man. Hot-tempered, perhaps, and quick to retaliate if threatened or insulted, but he knew when to back down.

"Thanks," Spade said finally.

They were spared any further awkwardness by the front door bursting open. Immediately Law had a Room re-created, ready to counterattack, but was relieved to see that it was only their ally Bartolomeo, his face in wide panic.

"Strawhats! We're not safe here anymore, the Marines are coming to find us! Both General Inspector Sengoku and Tsuru landed this morning so we need to get out of here! We have a ship prepared on the East Port. They're already heading in this direction, but if we split here now and meet at the East Port in an hour, we can escape!"

Sengoku was here. Law gritted his teeth, weighing his options. He was still seriously hurt and creating even small Rooms made him exhausted. But he had questions, wanted to know about Corazon's role as a Marine…

"Where's Sengoku?"

Spade's tone was casual in its inquiry, but her eyes were blazing.

"Uh," stuttered Bartolomeo, clearly unsure of how to answer her. A tornado began to form in Spade's hand, prompting him to find his tongue. "H-he landed at the West Port! He's supposed to be on his way too."

Spade turned to the rest of them.

"I'll meet you guys on the ship," she said mostly to Robin. "Leave as soon as you can—I can catch up."

"Where are you going?" Zoro demanded.

"I need to see Sengoku for a bit," she said. "I'll be right there."

"He's an ex-Fleet Admiral, and there's still the blind Admiral here too," said Robin warningly. "You can't fight him."

"I'm not. I just had some questions."

"Spade—"

"I don't pick stupid fights anymore," she reminded them. "I'll meet y'all on the ship."

"I'm coming too," Law said, resheathing Kikoku.

"I don't need a bodyguard, especially one whose right arm barely works."

"It's not for you—I need to talk to Sengoku too," Law snapped.

"What the hell do you need to talk to him about?"

"It's none of your business. Sengoku will want to meet with me."

Spade looked skeptical. "You're injured. You're gonna get killed."

"I can handle it."

"Okay, Ava and Trafal-guy, go together!" Luffy said in what sounded suspiciously like an order. "I gotta go talk to Rebecca about Kyros really fast, but we'll all meet at East Port in an hour!"

"Fine," said Spade, annoyed. "Law, if you die, I'm not saving you again. I'll get us to Sengoku—hold on to me."

What the fuck—was this a trap? Where was he supposed to grab?

Sensing his hesitation, Spade glared at him.

"You're a fucking doctor, why the fuck are you being shy? We don't have all day!"

Biting back a snarky comment, Law obeyed and wrapped his left arm around her waist. Spade laced her arm around his neck in a gesture that would've been romantic if it weren't for the fact that both of them were both glaring daggers at each other.

"Hope you don't get motion sick," she smirked, as if she knew just how much his stomach was already rebelling against him.

Law regretted this decision immediately.

* * *

Marco the Phoenix was a very wanted man, with a bounty exceeding a billion beli, for good reason: he was notoriously strong, he was the unofficial captain of what remained of the Whitebeard Pirates, and he was also an excellent strategist and tactician. His reputation as being a laidback man was not unfounded, but he also had not become Whitebeard's First Division Commander simply because he knew how to kick back and relax until others started a fight.

Knowing where his friends and enemies were at all times was critical to being able to both orchestrate and avoid clashes. The planning up to the Payback War had taken months and though it had ended in defeat, the casualty count had been significantly reduced because Marco had been able to determine when and where would be the best time for a fight. His one major mistake had one of miscommunication: Spade had not gotten the message in time. He had thought that the presence of one individual would not be that significant in the grand scheme of things, but Spade was extremely useful in a fight at sea and she also had new information that she had not had the chance to communicate to Marco yet. Apparently, multiple members of Blackbeard's crew had the ability to use double Devil's Fruits. That had been a surprise that the Whitebeard Pirates would have preferred discovering outside of battle.

This huge miscalculation had all resulted due to the fact that up until the Payback War, Marco was reliant on Spade to contact him when she felt like it, which luckily was frequently but unluckily was not enough. Due to her Underworld reputation, Spade refused any source of permanent communication that could be traced back to her. She exclusively used Burner Den-Den Mushi that could only be used one time, refused to create a Vivre card, and would not even tell Marco where he could find her reliably if he needed to.

After the War, he finally convinced her that they needed a more reliable form of communication; she had not needed much persuasion besides the sight of Marco being bedridden for weeks after being hit with an earthquake head-on. She'd opted for an incredibly expensive set of Den Den Mushi she'd found in the Underworld: an Interceptor, an Untraceable set which she split with Marco, and a red SOS pair which she left with him as well. This meant that she was able to reach him as long as she had signal, and if things got truly dire, there was always the SOS. In her thoroughness, she had attempted to obtain a white Blocker Mushi, but had been unsuccessful.

To some extent, Marco appreciated the changes Spade had undergone over the last two years. She had always been smart and if she wasn't so important to him, he would've started worrying about her less when she went on her solo missions. Ace's death had made Spade a more cautious fighter—she was not provoked as easily, held her tongue, and overall just _thought_ more. This was perhaps the biggest change to Spade: she was constantly thinking about every move and its impact, from the Whitebeards to the Marines to the Revolutionary Army.

It was not a bad thing, and honestly it was the only reason Spade had remained hidden for so long, but it was a trait that bothered Marco sometimes. Ace and Spade had been a free-fighting pair, one of improvisation and instinct. It had caused problems, certainly, but it was also what made them so happy with each other. Spade had always been fairly witty, sarcastic, and trigger-happy. Now, she was mostly quiet during meetings and instead would just observe with intense concentration. To see Spade _this_ controlled about everything made Marco worried for several reasons: one, because she hardly felt like the old Spade sometimes, and two, because he was just waiting for everything to fall apart one day and for Spade to completely explode.

It seemed today would be that day.

"Marco," said Jose, his deep voice echoing in the cavern that served as the lobby of the Whitebeard Pirates' base. They were seated behind a stone desk, watching the Broadcast Mushi of a spy Marco had stationed in Dressrosa and whom he'd explicitly ordered to track Spade's movements.

"I know," Marco said wearily. "Shit."

The broadcast showed the grainy image of the coasts of Dressrosa. They appeared to be at a port, with Marine ships in the distance. At the center of the broadcast were three people. Marco had never met Trafalgar Law in person but recognized him from his bounty posters as the youngest Shichibukai in Marine history; the news had been released that Law's title had been revoked and given that Law's entire torso was bandaged, Marco surmised that Law had fought violently for the cause. Law was yelling frantically at the woman in front of him, whom Marco knew very well.

Spade thankfully did not appear injured, but it had been a long time since Marco had seen that abandoned look in her eyes. She was clearly not listening to whatever Law was yelling at her and instead was concentrating as she held a sword to the neck of Inspector General Sengoku.

With hundreds of Marines nearby.

With only a questionable acquaintance, whom Spade herself had expressed she would be fine never meeting, as back-up.

"Shit," Marco said again.

* * *

 _free talk_ :

 _i've updated more in the last week than i have in the last four years. enjoy the word vomit while it lasts..._

 _hope you enjoyed and please review!_

 _xoxo,  
m.n_


	4. Tempest

**Chapter 4: Tempest**

Law's encounters with Skye Spade so far had been, while not life threatening, certainly not nurturing. He could tell that she was wary of him, but he understood that, especially since he had been called "creepy" more than once in his life. Additionally, he knew that unlike the rest of the Strawhat crew, Spade had every reason to be guarded with her trust. She had expressed more than once over the course of their brief acquaintance that she did not pick stupid fights, nor did she believe in wasting energy when there was no purpose. Law respected this as well, especially when his methods of fighting and Devil's Fruit usage required energy conservation.

What he did _not_ respect was a _blatant_ disregard for all things that Skye Spade had previously iterated as her code of conduct, because pointing a blade at the neck of the Inspector General in front of a bunch of Marines was _the closest thing to stupid_ he had ever seen in his entire life. Not to mention that _he was still right here_.

Law had honestly not seen it coming. Spade had flown them to the West Port and they'd found Sengoku almost easily. She'd even let Law discuss his matters first, opting to hide out in the distance while Law and Sengoku spoke about Corazon, whom Sengoku revealed had been almost a son to him. He had not revealed anything about what exactly the Will of D. meant, had even had the gall to tell Law that Corazon had never loved him, but there were very few things in this world that Law believed in with every cell in his body and Corazon's love for him was one of them.

Just as Law was ready to leave, he'd felt a sharp breeze pass by him and Kikoku was ripped out of his arms. He turned around, Room already created, only to find that Spade was pointing his nodachi straight at Sengoku's neck. Every muscle in her body was wound like a tense string, making the tattoo on her back appear to ripple in flames.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Law shouted.

He was effectively ignored.

"Skye Spade," Sengoku said gravely.

"Inspector General," she said, the long blade held extended against his neck.

"What is your plan here?" he asked. "Do you intend to kill me?"

"Yes, I do," she whispered, her green eyes alight with fury. "Law said that you'd want to talk to him. Figured that meant you'd need to be away from your men."

"Do you think killing me is possible?" Sengoku said patiently. "I was Fleet Admiral, my dear. This blade is nothing to me."

"Everything is nothing to you," she said with latent rage. "These wars, the massacres, Blackbeard becoming a Yonkou, Aokiji leaving the Marines…these are all _nothing_ to you."

"That is not true."

"It is, because these could've all _been nothing_."

Sengoku nodded in understanding. "You believe this could have all been avoided had we not executed Portgas D. Ace. But Portgas D. Ace was the living son of the greatest threat to peace in the world. He had to die."

"Bullshit."

"Even you must understand that it's true. The man's lineage alone—"

A howling gale suddenly surrounded them, cutting Sengoku off mid-sentence. Law glanced behind him only to see an enormous hurricane to have appeared out of nowhere, winds blowing so fiercely that were it not for the fact that he'd had a Room created, he would've been blown to the other side of the island. All Marine ships behind him had already been shredded to pieces, and the hurricane only grew fiercer.

"I want you to tell me," said Spade, voice deadly, "that you believe killing Ace was just as good for the world as protecting a piece of shit like Doflamingo was."

Sengoku's eyes flickered.

"I want you to tell me that you truly believe Portgas D. Ace was a threat to humanity when even fishmen and giants alike fought and died for him, when everyone he met testified to his kindness, when all he wanted to do was make Whitebeard the Pirate King. I want you to tell me that you think Blackbeard was the better choice, that letting criminals from Impel Down run free was better than _letting one man live just because he was the son of Gol D. Roger_."

Law did not think he was supposed to be here. He did not know if Spade had forgotten all about him or just didn't care, but either way, the words she was saying and the intensity she said them with made Law incredibly uncomfortable. Spade had been courteous enough to remain out of earshot while he and Sengoku had conversed, and Law honestly felt he should do the same were it not for the fact that a raging hurricane was right behind him, that Spade still had his nodachi, and was using said weapon to threaten Sengoku.

"I want to hear you say all those things aloud," Spade continued, "and then I will kill you knowing that you will always feel justified in what you did. Because if you say anything otherwise…you'll admit that killing Ace was the biggest mistake the Marines could've ever made."

Law heard a scuffle behind him and immediately whipped around. A figure cloaked in black from head to toe was standing directly behind him; on his outstretched palm was a Den-Den Mushi with heavily lidded eyes.

"Take it," hissed the newcomer.

Law grabbed the newcomer by the throat with his left hand.

"Who the fuck are you?" Law said icily.

"Not…now," the stranger gasped. "The Mushi…it's Marco the Phoenix."

Without releasing his grip, Law reached for the Mushi and picked it up.

"Let go of him and get Spade out of there _now_ ," an unfamiliar voice commanded.

"Who—"

"Yes," snapped the voice, "this is Marco, save your awe for later. I need you to get Spade out of there before she kills Sengoku or gets herself killed instead. I don't know what you're doing there with her but if you're strong enough to be a Shichibukai, you can handle forcing her to run away."

Law _really hated_ taking orders from people.

"How can you see us?" Law demanded. "If you're in Dressrosa, why don't you help her yourself—"

"Look, kid." Law immediately hated this man. "We don't have time. I got someone to tail Spade, that's how I know. So let my man go, get Spade out of there, and then the Whitebeards will owe you a favor."

Now that was interesting.

"Price can be named at a later time," said Marco curtly as if he'd read Law's mind. " _Get her out, now_."

The call ended and Law threw both the stranger and the Mushi down onto the ground. Spade and Sengoku were still talking, but Law could tell that Spade's control was not going to last much longer given the speed of the winds surrounding them.

Law took a deep breath. His body ached, especially his right arm, but he fought through the pain.

"Shambles."

He switched his and Sengoku's locations. In the two seconds that Spade took to be stunned, Law knocked the nodachi out of her hand and swiped the blade at her instead, cutting off both her legs in the process.

"What—"

Law could see Sengoku getting ready to attack and decreased the Room's size to eject the Inspector General out of its safety, leaving him vulnerable to the winds.

"What did you do?!" Spade shrieked.

"Save your life," muttered Law, wrapping an arm around her body while making sure her unattached legs were floating safely in the Room. "Hold on tight."

They disappeared just as reinforcements arrived, but not before the hurricane swelled so massively that the winds drowned out the sound of Spade's screams and charged toward shore, submerging everything in sight.

* * *

This was a feeling she had not been reminded of in a long time, but the memories weren't exactly forgettable. Instantly she was a child again, her legs were crushed under an anchor and the pain was excruciating, jolting up her entire body—she still tried to move her legs but nothing moved, just like now, and everything hurt like fuck but it was nothing compared to the fact that her mother was dead from a single bullet to the head right in front of her—

"Hey!" The voice seemed far away, she could sense a presence right in front of her but she couldn't see it. Her throat was closing in and she couldn't fucking breathe—

"Miss Spade!" A hand grabbed her chin and forced her upward. Law's face appeared above hers, and he looked furious and worried at the same time. "I fixed them, you're fine! Calm down!"

The world came into focus again. She was sitting on the wooden surface of a ship deck. Cool winds were blowing, letting the ship sail freely over the ocean. Sengoku was nowhere to be seen. She did not know how much time had passed.

Several blurry figures were surrounding her. The pain in her legs was gone; instead, she was just seized with an overwhelming general ache that racked her entire body. Her legs—were her legs there—she wiggled her toes and they moved.

Spade inhaled deeply, feeling the burn of oxygen as it flooded her system with relief. She was shaking violently and she had no energy to hold herself up—in fact, she was starting to realize that Trafalgar Law was actually still holding her tightly, one arm around her waist and the other around her chin.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Let me go," she said, wishing that she wasn't trembling like a leaf.

"There shouldn't have been any pain," he said calmly, still not releasing her. "I don't know why you felt anything."

Trafalgar fucking Law was the singularly worst person Spade had met in her entire life. Absolutely _no_ other first impression came close to being as much of a shit show as the last twenty-four hours had been. She took back everything she'd thought about him being a remotely decent guy because the fucking bastard had just amputated both of her legs without a second thought. Not to mention that he had just prevented her from killing Sengoku.

"I swear to God," she exhaled, "I am going to kill you."

"You can try later," Law said, unconcerned. "I need to get some information from you first—no one ever feels pain unless I intend for them to, so I need to know if I messed up or if there's some malfunction between my ability and you specifically—"

Furious, Spade whirred her legs to life and brought her knee to come crashing straight into Law's chest, right where she knew he was injured.

" _FUCK_."

Law coughed violently, finally releasing her as he backed away, hunched over in pain.

"What the fuck," he breathed raggedly, "is wrong with you? I just saved your fucking life!"

"You saved Sengoku," she shot back, livid. "After all the shit I did for you yesterday, you saved the man who ordered Ace's execution, you cut off my fucking legs, and you're _still_ confused?!"

"I wasn't going to stop you!" Law shot back. "I did it because Marco the Phoenix asked me to!"

"…What?"

"He's been tailing you," Law said angrily, wiping away the blood that had trickled down his chin. "There was a spy who gave me a Mushi and Marco told me to get you out there in exchange for a favor from the Whitebeards—apparently it's not fucking worth it because you're batshit crazy."

Spade stared at him, stunned. God, this was too much to deal with. She needed to sleep. She needed to just close her eyes and never wake up because out of everything that happened in the last day, from losing two years worth of work to losing the Mera Mera no Mi to seeing Sengoku and not being able to kill him to simply having the misfortune of ever meeting Trafalgar Law, _this_ was by far the worst thing that could happen.

Marco was tracking her.

Which meant either Marco didn't trust her, or she couldn't trust him. Both options crushed her completely.

"Spade."

Robin's face came into focus as she knelt in front of Spade so that they were eye-level.

"Are you okay?" Robin asked seriously. "You weren't responsive for a little bit."

Zoro joined her. "Your legs weren't injured; Trafalgar has the ability to disassemble and reassemble anything in a Room. He reattached them the moment you both appeared."

Spade nodded numbly, suddenly feeling like she was a thousand years old. So much had gone wrong, just absolutely everything that could've gone wrong had gone wrong—

"Are you still in any pain?" Law said stiffly. He knelt in front of her and, despite that Spade had just kneed him in an existing wound, brought a gentle hand back up to her chin. With his other hand, he held up his index finger in front of her face. "Follow my finger with your eyes."

"I'm fine," she muttered as she pushed his hand away. There were too many people around her, and she just wasn't used to being surrounded, much less have people expressing concern for her because why would they care, she had just fucked up everything that still mattered, and Sengoku was still alive and said that Ace's death was justified—

"Trafal-guy! Ava!" Luffy bounded up to them eagerly, clearly having just noticed them. "How'd everything go! Did you talk to that Sengoku guy? Ava, are you going to stay and rejoin the crew?!"

"Captain," Robin said gently, "maybe this isn't the best time."

"Wait, what happened? Did you do something, Trafal-guy? Or who was that Sengoku guy anyway and what did you need to talk to him about—"

Spade heard her voice before she even registered that she was speaking.

"Luffy, sometimes I wonder if you care that Ace died."

The rest of them stared at her, shocked. Spade wasn't supposed to voice these feelings, these were all negative thoughts that she _knew_ were wrong and terrible and didn't mean anything but at this point, she couldn't stop herself because she was overwhelmed with frustration and panic and just sheer _exhaustion_.

"Do you not know why the Marines killed Ace? How do you not even know who Sengoku is? Don't you get why I didn't come back? I _couldn't_. I didn't just spend the last two years training—I've spent every waking moment doing everything I could to avenge Ace, and you expect me to just rejoin like he never died, as if you don't remember that he died _for you_."

Everyone looked stricken, but Luffy's expression made Spade regret everything—not just what she'd said, but everything leading up to that point. She should've just listened to Marco. She should've abandoned the Mera Mera no Mi and just gone home, because she hadn't thought she was ready to meet the Strawhats yet and this confirmed that suspicion.

There was a vibration in her pocket. Spade pulled out one of the many Den-Den Mushi she had crammed into her shorts. Marco was calling.

"Excuse me," she heard herself say. She got to her feet. "I need to take this."

Spade walked away and thankfully, no one followed her. She, not Trafalgar Law, was officially the worst person she had ever met.

* * *

Marco was almost surprised that Spade picked up his call. He had been debating whether or not to reach out first, especially since Spade now knew that he had been following her movements. He wasn't entirely sure what to say—though Spade did not always tell Marco every little detail of her missions, the two of them had a policy of unconditional trust. Tracking her violated this policy. This was going to be a heavy conversation.

Spade picked up, but she did not say anything. All Marco could hear was the sound of shallow breathing, the crashing of waves against a boat, and the faint rumblings of a sea monster. He let out a breath of relief; they were safe at sea.

"This is Charles what's-his-face," Marco said semi-jokingly.

"How long have you been tracking me?" she said bluntly, ignoring their relatively useless precaution.

Marco sighed. "About half a year. Since that time you went to Shabondy to meet A—your contact."

They had to be careful. Their Den-Den Mushi calls were untraceable given the hefty price they'd paid for the set, but the calls were still tappable without a Blocker.

" _Why_?" Spade said desperately.

Marco gritted his teeth and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could tell Spade was completely thrown by the news and was feeling betrayed. He was thankful he was alone in their base's lobby. Jose knew that Marco was the only one Spade could freely talk to, so after ascertaining Spade was safe, he'd excused himself to review their supplies.

"Spade," Marco said gently.

"Do you not trust me?" she said, sounding completely broken.

"What, God, Spade, o'course I do—"

"I just don't get it. I know I'm off the grid a lot but I haven't done anything that would make you doubt me—Marco, you know I would die for you."

" _That_ ," he said almost angrily. "That's why I've been tracking you."

"What?"

Marco took in a deep breath before speaking again.

"Spade, I trust you with my life. But I don't trust you with yours."

"What are you talking about—I've been careful."

"You have," he agreed. "You're careful and usually play it safe, but…" He hesitated, thinking as he chose his next words carefully.

"Marco."

"The bar for what you think is dangerous but worth it has gotten lower with time," he said. "You're cautious if you think what you do will impact me, or the rest of the Whitebeards, or your contacts, but when it's just _you_ , you just…don't seem to care if you end up gettin' hurt."

"That's not—"

"You volunteered to be caught and tortured," said Marco, seething, "so your contact could break into Navy Headquarters in the meantime."

"…I wasn't aware you two kept in touch," said Spade coolly.

"We don't. Your contact thought it was concerning, so he got me a message."

"I just had too much to drink at that meeting. I wasn't being serious."

"You _already had the plan_. You made him torture you for _practice_."

"It didn't pan out anyway," she said shortly.

"Yeah, because I shut it down and told him that it was the stupidest plan you'd come up with yet. So I've been having people follow you whenever you tell me where you are, just to keep tabs. I just need to make sure that you're not being stupid."

Spade was silent for a moment. "I told to you a long time ago that I wasn't going to kill myself after Ace died. You and I both know I'm stronger than that."

"Yeah, I know. But it doesn't change the fact that sometimes you're a little self-destructive and you don't even realize it. And maybe I'm partially to blame for that because I wanted you to be our scout. You've been handling a lot for the last two years and being undercover made you isolated. Maybe you would've healed better if you'd been around people."

"Being around the rest of the Whitebeards wouldn't have changed a thing," she said frostily, and Marco knew full well what she was implying. "They would've made things worse."

"Either way," Marco said, avoiding this point of conflict, "maybe everything that happened at Dressrosa is for the best. Now that everyone knows you're alive, maybe you can relax for a bit."

Spade scoffed. "Sure, lose everything I've worked for the last two years and now I can just _relax_."

"You should. I want you to stay with the Strawhats for a while."

"What—the Marines and Blackbeard will know exactly who I'm with and who I'm working for."

"Yeah, that's fine."

"How is that—"

"It's good for you. It'll get good-hearted people, people you can trust, to keep an eye o' you. You can focus on other things besides obsessin' over every detail of every strategy. And it's not like you can just disappear after threatenin' Sengoku like that, which was another great example of self-destructive behavior, by the way."

Marco could almost hear Spade wince. "Okay, fine, that was stupid."

"Indeed. So you will stay with the Strawhats until I tell you otherwise."

"Marco—"

"That's an order," he said firmly.

Spade did not reply.

"I'm bein' a captain," he said lightly, "just like you wanted."

He heard her laugh a little. "Okay, fine. I'm sorry, Marco. I'll be more careful."

"It's not that you have to be more careful. I _want_ you to let loose. Just…take care of yourself a lil more."

"Okay." She paused. "I lost the Mera Mera no Mi."

"That's fine. I heard it went to a decent guy."

"Yeah, Luffy and Ace's brother. We talked for a bit. He seems nice."

"Good."

Another pause. "He felt like Ace. Not the person. But…the heat."

Marco smiled sadly. There were occasions over the last two years when Spade would just completely break apart, and it was up to Marco to put together the pieces. In the immediate aftermath of both Whitebeard and Ace's deaths, Spade had been the one to pull Marco through. He thought that she'd been the stronger one, and in a way she was, but only because the process of falling apart for her stretched over a much longer period. She was fine most of the time, until she wasn't.

She wasn't fine now.

"I'm here, Spade."

She laughed weakly. "Sort of."

"Just breathe."

He heard her obey, one deep inhalation followed by a reciprocal exhale. This continued for several minutes, with Marco waiting patiently all the while.

"I'm okay," she said softly. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

"Anything else I can do for you, captain?" she said.

"No active orders for you right now," he said, ignoring the jibe. "I'll get in touch if anything changes. Just tell the Law kid to name his price."

"What?"

"For saving your life. I owe him a favor."

"No, you don't," said Spade sourly. "I saved his ass too."

"A deal's a deal, Spade. Just ask him."

"Fine. I'll be in touch with updates later. This call has been too long already."

"I'll be waiting."

Marco hung up, unsure if he felt better or worse after the conversation.

 _Better_ , he decided. Spade needed a break, away from the intensity of her work or the judgment of the Whitebeard pirates whenever she came back to base. Because though no one dared mention it in Marco's presence, there was always a degree of distrust among the men and Spade, who affiliated with Aokiji and the Underworld alike.

Marco set aside the Den-Den Mushi and began studying a map. Trust was a funny thing. Sometimes it was earned, other times it was organic, a consequence of circumstance, and yet most of all it had to be innate and reciprocated.

He had that with his men, and he had that with Spade. But his hunch told him there would be a day where the two would clash and he would have to face a cold hard truth: some trust was worth more than others, and on that day, Spade's declaration that she would die for Marco would be put to the test.

* * *

Spade closed her eyes, enjoying the cool ocean breeze against her cheeks as she practiced breathing exercises. She had time to relax. The last several days had been too much; what was supposed to be a routine meeting with Aokiji had evolved into a complete clusterfuck, and she was now back on Ace's brother's ship, identity blown and supposedly thankful for it.

She needed to apologize to Luffy. None of what she'd said had been true—okay, obviously some part of her thought it but it hadn't been fair. Luffy was as strong as he was because he thought simply, loved easily, and fought fiercely. He was like Ace. The politics of everything and the background atrocities associated with them were best left to others who wanted to wallow in the darkness, a place Luffy did not thrive.

"Are you free?"

Trafalgar Law, on the other hand, seemed to be the exact opposite of Luffy in that regard.

Spade turned to him and leaned against the wooden railings of the deck. The Heart Pirates captain had changed from his open black jacket into a yellow hoodie with a smiling Jolly Roger painted on the front. He wore polka-dot blue pants and the same snow leopard cap.

She frowned slightly at the sight of him. Law was a mishmash of colors and textures, which was unfortunate because his face, though gaunt and slightly shadowed, was a brooding kind of handsome that was ultimately lost in his unfortunate clothing ensemble.

"You don't need to look so excited to see me," Law said lightly, readjusting the nodachi in the crook of his right arm. He had a black bag in his other hand.

"Sorry, this is just my face," she answered. "What are you doing here?"

"I figured you'd be done with your call and I could do a check-up. You're the only one who I haven't examined."

"I'm fine," she muttered. "My legs are fine."

"I know that," he said impatiently. "I repaired those."

"You inflicted them too."

Law gave a cold smirk. "True. That's why I know it was a job well-done. But I was talking about your shoulder. You got hit by Doflamingo yesterday; I need to make sure your wound didn't get infected."

"It was just a small wound, not like yours or Luffy's."

"Doctor's orders, Miss Spade." Law gestured to the floor of the deck. "Please take a seat and face away from me."

Spade reluctantly sat down, placing her Den-Den Mushi gingerly to the side as Law knelt down behind her, his hands carefully untying the knot of her bandages.

"You Logia types," he murmured, his breath tickling the tip of ear, "don't get corporeal injuries easily, so when you do, it's important to keep track of them since your regeneration tends to be lower. There we go." He finished unwrapping the bandages and placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to shudder. Law's touch was cool and feathery. If he noticed her shiver, he didn't mention it. "I imagine it's been a while since you've fought someone with Haki strong enough to force you to materialize."

"Yeah," she said, deciding not to mention that she often made Aokiji and Marco spar with her for training, and neither of them was gentle with her.

"Your wound looks okay," he said, "but Doflamingo's threads shred skin as they whip. This makes the healing process slower, and you'll likely scar if I don't fix things. I'm going to cut away some of the dead skin and stitch you up. Hold still. Room."

Spade felt her shoulder tingle and she knew that it was covered in that shining blue light Law created whenever he made a Room.

"You're being really nice," she said honestly, "considering that I kicked you in the stomach half an hour ago."

Law chuckled wryly. "Yeah, I didn't appreciate that. But it's part of being the only doctor on board. Even if you hate me, I gotta make sure you're okay."

Spade smiled and fiddled with her braid.

"These have been pretty tough circumstances to meet under," she said. "I'm sorry for being…belligerent. It's been stressful."

"I understand."

"I never formally introduced myself."

"Indeed, you didn't, even though I did. It was rude."

" _You're_ rude," she said irritably.

Law chuckled again. "I have a scalpel in my hand right now, so I'd watch your tone, Miss Spade."

"Are you cutting me?" she said, surprised.

"I am. You're not feeling any pain, right?"

"No," she said, amazed.

"Mm. Perhaps I made a mistake earlier then; you really shouldn't have felt anything before. Sorry about that."

"No, that was…that was in my head."

Law hummed, clearly curious, but he did not prompt her to continue speaking.

"Usually when you meet new people, you don't meet them during the weakest moments of their lives," she said acidly.

"It wasn't like I wanted to be dying the first time I met you," Law said in a similar tone.

"Obviously. It just feels weird to know something so… _intimate_ about a stranger."

Law sighed. "You don't always get to choose your circumstances. Hold still, Miss Spade, I'm stitching you up."

"I…" Spade did not know why she was talking so much. But Law was being so weirdly nice about everything that she felt compelled to convince him that she honestly wasn't normally like this—that under different circumstances, their introduction should've been much smoother.

"I was born on Shabondy Archipelago. My mom was one of the women that the Tenryuubito picked up to make a wife."

She felt Law's fingers freeze. He was listening intently.

"When my biological father got tired of us, he got rid of us by killing my mom in front of me and smashing my legs with an anchor. I lost all movement in my legs. That's…that's what I was feeling, I think, when you cut them off. I think it was all in my head because I freaked out when I couldn't feel them anymore."

She hadn't even told Ace these details about her life until they were both bound in Impel Down, awaiting their executions. She was crazy. Trafalgar Law was a stranger—she had known him for less than a full day and she had just told him about the earliest significant trauma of her life.

"That makes sense," he said calmly, resuming the stitching. "You'll feel some pressure in your shoulder, but there shouldn't be any pain. Let me know if you feel otherwise."

Well, that was one way to ignore a significantly emotional conversation. Spade would've been annoyed if she weren't feeling absolutely mortified.

Law worked in silence for several seconds before speaking.

"I won't do that again," he said. "Cutting off your legs, I mean. The pain you felt seemed significant."

"…Thanks."

"Why did you tell me that? Zoro said it took him months to get you to tell him anything about your past."

"Like I said," Spade said quietly, "just feels weird to know something so intimate about a stranger."

"You were evening the tables? You didn't need to. I saw you with Sengoku—that was by far more intimate than anything I ever wanted to witness."

"You make it sound like you watched us fuck," Spade said acidly.

This actually made Law bark out a laugh. "God, thanks for the disgusting mental image."

Spade felt the pressure at her shoulder disappear and heard Law set his equipment down.

"I'm just putting on a light bandage," he said. "I'll remove the stitches in a week."

"Thanks."

"Will you let me examine your legs?"

"You just said that they were fine—"

"I want to make sure."

Spade nodded and repositioned herself so that she was face-to-face with Law. He held out a palm, inviting her to place her leg in his hand. She did gingerly, willing herself not to stiffen.

She did not let people touch her often. She had never been a fan of physical contact, especially from men. It had taken months for her to be comfortable with Ace, and despite that sometimes she felt the urge to hook up with someone, Spade was the type of person who needed to know her partner before having sex with them. Currently, the only person that fit that criterion was Marco, and even that was pretty infrequent given how little they were physically in the same place.

Which was why letting Trafalgar Law touch her bare legs this freely felt almost violating, if it weren't for the clinical nature of his touch. Spade found herself surprisingly relaxed as he examined her legs, his tattooed fingers trailing the inking on her skin.

"Your bones are artificial?" he asked. "Your legs feel heavier than they look."

"Yeah."

"Vegapunk?"

"How'd—"

"Similar feel to some of Mr. Robot's contraptions," Law said, referring Franky. "I thought I heard something mechanical when you were fighting…no wonder you could fight Doflamingo. It wasn't just your Haki."

"Yeah," she grinned, "not like my half-breed blood alone could do anything against him."

Law suddenly made eye contact with her, catching her off guard. He looked pensive, serious, ignoring Spade's light-hearted remark completely. Before she could ask him about it, he looked back at her legs.

"Doflamingo was my captain when I was a kid," Law said clearly.

Spade stared.

"I was born on the island of Flevance, known for Amber Lead. I'm sure you've heard of it in your studies of the terrible things the World Government has done to people."

Spade nodded dumbly.

"I was the island's sole survivor," Law continued as he used a reflex hammer to tap on Spade's kneecaps, "which didn't mean very much because with the amount of toxic Amber Lead in my body, I wasn't supposed to live older than thirteen. I joined Doflamingo's crew because I just wanted to kill everything around me."

"What a great childhood," Spade said sarcastically, her leg jerking uncontrollably forward in Law's hands.

"You can imagine. It was only because Doflamingo's true biological brother, a man called Corazon, was hell-bent on saving me that I'm alive today. He dragged me to hospital after hospital for an entire half-year, but no one was willing to treat me because they thought Amber Lead Syndrome was contagious. Corazon sacrificed his life to get me the Ope Ope no Mi. I watched Doflamingo kill him while he protected me. Turns out Corazon was a Marine the entire time. His mission was to kill Doflamingo and prevent him from taking over Dressrosa, but Corazon failed that mission to save me instead."

Law had long finished examining her legs and instead had both of his hands resting on her bare skin. Spade was too busy listening to be bothered by the repetitive movements of his fingers tracing her tattoos. It felt invasive in an odd way; she did not know if she wanted to lean into or away from his touch.

"That's why I planned everything that happened in Dressrosa," he said. "I wanted to finish the job that Corazon never could because he just couldn't kill his own brother. And even though I didn't kill Doflamingo, hopefully giving the country back to the Riku family was enough to make amends."

He brought his gaze up to hers, his expression controlled and neutral. Spade tried to mirror him as she tried to decipher his motives. What was the point of telling her this? Was he seeking her trust, her pity, or her understanding?

Or perhaps he felt the same as she did—compelled to explain that their meeting had been unnatural, that perhaps they'd been rubbed too raw before they'd even had the chance to properly meet.

"You didn't need to tell me all that," she said softly.

"It's not anything I have to hide."

"Still. That's really personal."

"Figured since you first saw me at Death's door, I might as well explain the circumstances that got me there."

Spade smiled wryly. "True."

Law finally withdrew his hands from her legs and began packing up everything.

"I think I've misjudged you a lot over the course of only a day," she said as she watched him wrap up his spare bandages.

"In what way?"

"I thought you were a creepy asshole," she said.

"Unfortunately, I get that a lot."

"Then, when you were asking me to find the SMILE Factory, I thought you were a half-way decent guy, trying so hard to fight Doflamingo. But then you chopped off my legs, so you went back to asshole category."

Law smirked. "You aren't a peach, either."

"All in all, jury's still out," she said, drawing her knees in and standing up, "but thanks."

Law nodded, his snow leopard cap bobbing up and down with the movement.

"If your legs give you problems," he said, "find me. Stitches out in one week—you can shower but don't soak them. Any signs of infection like pain, redness around the site, or fever, find me."

He left her sitting on the deck, basking in the warmth of the sun and surrounded by the sounds of the lightly crashing waves. Somewhere around the corner, she heard the sounds of raucous partying and victory.

She needed to apologize to Luffy. Instead, she merely sat, tasting the winds, regulating her breathing, and trying to ignore the lingering sensation of Law's fingers trailing on her skin.

* * *

 _free talk:_

 _slowly but surely, we're getting there. it's been strange writing law and spade's interactions because things started out so intensely, they didn't have the chance to properly meet. can't imagine that either is actually that amicable, regardless of circumstance, but perhaps better than this._

 _thanks for reading, and please review!_

 _xoxo,  
m.n_


	5. Channels

**Chapter 5: Channels**

Spade and Nico Robin had a history that traveled far back, and if Spade truly wanted to give Robin credit where she deserved, Spade would have to admit that the historian was perhaps the greatest living influence on her life's trajectory. Never mind that the two women had been enemies at the beginning; uncovering the truth behind Ohara had forced Spade to confront what justice truly meant to her for the first time, and this act of defiance had driven her moral compass ever since.

It was consequently no surprise to either woman that they had developed an odd sort of friendship. While Spade was friendly with the rest of the Strawhats, had even been relatively close with Zoro at a time, it was only with Robin that Spade felt truly at ease because the Devil Child of Ohara was simply not as cavalier as the rest of the Strawhats were. She understood the complexity of politics, the sacrifice necessary to appropriately navigate the tensions of larger powers, and therefore seemed to judge Spade less for her refusal to return to the Strawhats than the rest of the crew did.

Spade therefore knew she had made a grave mistake when Robin pointblank ignored her when Spade sat down next to her. The historian was reading a book ( _Slaves of Glory: A History of the Corrida Colosseum and its Complex Relationship with the New World Slave Trade_ ) with one set of arms and sipping tea with another.

"Anything interesting you want to share?" Spade said after several minutes of awkward silence.

"Have you apologized to the captain?" Robin said calmly.

"No."

"Then we have nothing to discuss."

"Robin—"

"Spade," Robin sounded genuinely angry, and Spade winced. She had never seen the other woman express an emotion other than her natural tranquility, "what you said to Luffy was not only simply terrible but was brutally false and short-sighted, and you of all people should know what Hiken no Ace meant to him. Just because you are suffering does not mean Luffy didn't—"

"I know!" Spade interrupted, her own emotions getting the better of her. "I know. Just…you can berate me in a bit. Give me two minutes."

Every nerve in her body felt raw and painful despite that she had suffered few physical injuries the day prior. After spending so long alone, the sudden inundation back into social interactions drained Spade in a way she hadn't expected. She'd had too many honest conversations with different people in a too short a time span. Between sending off Aokiji to likely mortal danger and meeting Sabo, and then having a brutal conversation with Marco, Spade found herself running on the last dregs of her mental reserve. Even though Law had been surprisingly gentle with her, revealing a childhood trauma and hearing Law's own terrible history had hardly been the emotional break that Spade desperately needed. And here she was, still plowing forward because she had fucked up badly with Luffy. She knew what she had done wrong; she just needed Robin for a brief respite that Spade was now realizing she would not receive.

"I'm going to apologize to Luffy," Spade exhaled. "I just…I need a friend for a bit."

Robin's gaze softened and she put down her book.

"You lashed out," she said simply.

"I did. I know Luffy didn't deserve it. I know Ace dying tore Luffy to pieces. And I know Luffy doesn't need to be doing any of the things I am—he's never been that kind of person. But it's been so long since I've talked to people, much less about Ace, and all of a sudden it was the Mera Mera no Mi, then I saw Luffy again, and I met a brother that Ace had never told me about, it just…" Spade blinked, surprised to find that her eyes were wet, "it's been so weird, spending the last two years of my life fighting for this cause while running away from it at the same time. I know Ace is dead, but sometimes everything just hits me and I really fucking miss him. And it just kills a little part of me every time I have to tell myself he's gone."

Robin placed a hand on Spade's back, her touch startling Spade a bit, but she relaxed as Robin rubbed her shoulders comfortingly.

"Have you talked to anyone about this?" Robin asked.

"Not really. It's hard to talk to people who didn't know Ace about it."

"But don't the rest of the Whitebeards feel the same way?"

"I guess? Marco and I see each other very infrequently and Den-Den Mushi can be tapped so we have to keep our calls pretty short."

"Wait," Robin said, confused, "you weren't physically with the Whitebeards these last two years?"

Spade stared at her. "No, of course not. I drop in with updates but I've got my own things to do."

"Then who have you been with?"

"I don't understand your question, Robin."

"Friends? People you count on?" Robin waved her second set of hands in a randomly gesticulatory fashion.

"I've…it's usually just me," Spade said, somewhat bemused by Robin's increasing incredulity. "Do you honestly think I could be an Underworld Intel Broker if I was just sitting in one place all the time, with _friends_?"

Robin heaved a sigh, as if preparing herself to explain something incredibly basic to a five-year-old. Spade would have found it patronizing if it weren't so uncharacteristic of Robin.

"Spade," Robin said with infinite kindness, "you went through an awful trauma two years ago. You saw someone you love die right in front of you, not to mention whatever torture you endured at Impel Down. Any normal person would've taken time off to properly mourn. But by the sounds of it, you've spent the entire time since he died just… _working_. You haven't stopped. You haven't even taken a second to think about how talking about these things might help you. It's no wonder you just lashed out at Luffy. Luffy isn't completely healed, but he is recovering because he has worked for his crew and in return, his crew supports him. Not everyone grieves the same way, but maybe you should take time and…process everything."

Spade almost blanched. Take time off? Process? She _had_ taken time off. The entire three weeks following Ace's death, she'd been completely numb, crying on and off, and even if she hadn't talked to people about her feelings, she and Marco had fucked enough during those few weeks to be mentally and physically very much on the same page. They'd achieved a catharsis of sorts multiple times. But Spade had only started feeling alive again when there had been something to do, a target to achieve. Working _was_ her recovery process.

Robin seemed to know what Spade was thinking and merely shook her head.

"I think I'll have a few words for Marco the Phoenix if I ever meet him," she said dryly. "Sending you off to do recon work alone for two years after seeing your partner die right in front of you…despite their historic track record, men continue to amaze me with their lack of sensitivity. And you, for all your ridicule of men, sometimes you can as dense as one."

"That's rude," muttered Spade. "Whatever, I think Marco was getting at the same thing. He told me to take time off, spend some time with your crew."

"That seems like a wise decision. Luffy will be pleased to hear that."

Spade groaned and rubbed her temples, as if the exercise would mentally prepare her for the next emotional item on her agenda.

"Are you feeling better?" Robin asked. "I've never seen you so…distressed as earlier."

"Mm. Trafalgar stitched my shoulder back up and examined my legs. I'm fine."

Robin wisely did not pursue the reasons why Spade had been so incapacitated by what turned out to be Trafalgar Law simply playing tricks.

"That was kind of him, considering that you likely reopened his wounds earlier."

"I apologized," Spade said tartly.

"You'll be doing a lot of that today. You should be kinder to the captains. They've suffered enough abuse from Doflamingo."

"Mm. Do you trust him?"

"Captain Law?"

"Yeah."

"I had my concerns when he proposed the alliance," Robin admitted. "His reputation precedes him, and he is clearly the master tactician amongst the Supernovas."

"People who think too much worry me," Spade murmured in agreement.

"Rich words from someone who also thinks too much," the historian said lightly. "He is loyal and he cares about the well-being of others. He was willing to die next to Luffy, Spade. That was enough for me."

Spade hummed, unwilling to verbally agree despite that Robin was right.

"It helps that he is pretty," Robin said as she casually reopened her book.

Spade stared at her. " _Pretty_?"

"You don't think so?" she said slyly. "Take a better look next time. It helps when he isn't wearing his hat."

"He's…" Spade struggled to find the proper words that expressed, yes, she agreed to some extent that he was attractive but she did not trust Law, which meant she had to be careful entertaining the notion that a possible enemy was _pretty_.

"Easy on the eyes," Robin answered for her. "A nonchalant kind of handsome." Robin gave a crooked grin. "Not your type?"

Spade could not believe they were having girl talk, of all things, but also could not resist smiling as she shook her head.

"He thinks too much," Spade reiterated.

"Never thought that your type would be dumb and ugly."

"That's not my—"

"Ace was rather handsome," Robin said thoughtfully. "Certainly couldn't be dumb if he was a Whitebeard Division Commander."

"Of course not," groaned Spade. "Ace was hot in all senses of the word. I like my men well built, that's all. Trafalgar strikes me as a bit of a bookworm."

"He's not scrawny, but I understand what you're talking about. He's rather lean."

"You talk as if he's a piece of meat."

"I assure you, what men say about us is infinitely more butcher-like."

"I don't doubt you."

"At least we'll have the pick of the lot tonight," Robin said as she flipped a page. Spade had to be impressed that Robin could be reading such an intellectual book while holding an equally shallow conversation.

"What do you mean?" Spade said suspiciously.

Robin raised an eyebrow. "You realize there will be festivities tonight? We are the only two women aboard. Be careful with any unsolicited advances."

Spade wanted to throw herself off the edge of the ship.

* * *

Robin had been correct in her predictions; there was indeed a feast on the ship that night, and it included over five thousand members whose captains had just sworn to create the Strawhat Grand Fleet. All that meant to Law was five thousand small idiots had just chosen to follow one big idiot, but given that Strawhat Luffy was the Big Idiot who had brought down Doflamingo, Law decided to hold his tongue. He would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't slightly jealous of Luffy's natural charisma, but one quick glance over the seven crews in the Grand Fleet was enough to convince Law that five minutes in any of their companies gave him a headache. He had nothing to be jealous of.

Law had never been much of a party-person. Though he did enjoy the occasional night of inebriation, he was careful not to let drunkenness be a common state aboard his submarine. Alcohol loosened the tongue and, though not scientifically sound, subjectively redirected blood away from the brain towards regions of the body that claimed pleasure as superior to practicality. Law was a man of control and few mistakes, and not being a drunken fool contributed to that reputation.

Nonetheless, he could not help but loosen up a bit tonight. For the first time in thirteen years, he felt lighter, the weight that Doflamingo had always represented now almost evaporated with the knowledge that the former Shichibukai was in currently Kairouseki and being shipped to Impel Down. Sure, the fact that Kaidou was likely furious and would be targeting both Law and Luffy was worrying, but it was not an immediate concern. With four beers in his system and a slight buzz surrounding his normally clear thinking, Law felt _good_.

The only thing that could make him feel even better was a good lay. He had been hiding out in Punk Hazard for much too long. Monet had made it clear she was bored and would be open to fucking, and though Law was admittedly curious what the experience would be like with a harpy, he was also too paranoid and knew better than to end up with a knife in his back just because he'd worried about his balls becoming blue. Now that he knew Monet had been Doflamingo's lackey, Law was infinitely appreciative of his better judgment, because fucking Monet would've been like fucking a female version of Doflamingo and the thought of that made him want to vomit.

Law stood at a corner of the deck, watching as Luffy cheered raucously with his newfound friends, giant kegs of beer in hand. Luffy looked significantly happier than he had earlier in the afternoon, when Law had accidentally stumbled upon Luffy sobbing his eyes out in front of a surprisingly teary Spade. It wasn't like he'd meant to intrude, but had instead come out of his quarters after hearing Luffy bellow, " _DO YOU HATE ME, AVA?_ " so loudly that sea monsters had retreated deeper into their ocean lairs. In Law's defense, he hadn't been the only spectator. The remaining members of the Strawhats were peering around the corner, observing the interaction as well, and it was with Robin's encouragement that Law had joined.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Spade's apologizing," Zoro said gruffly. "Took her long enough. Luffy's been a mess."

"He's still a mess," Law said, deadpan as he watched tears the size of marbles stream down the Strawhat captain's face.

"Yes, well, I can only imagine things improving from here," Robin smiled. "I think Spade had a lot to get off her chest as well."

Spade looked supremely uncomfortable as she shook her head vigorously, her arms wrapping around Luffy in an awkward hug that left enough of a gap in between the two of them for Law to conclude that Spade was indeed a woman who appreciated little physical contact. He had suspected as much from their earlier interaction and had been surprised that she'd let him touch her legs so freely. Law was slightly perturbed by how casual he'd been with her as well, but that was something for him to mull over later.

"I suppose they're better now," Franky said as Luffy rectified the distance between him and Spade by wrapping his rubber arms around her body. "I'm gonna get the rest of the ship ready—we're gonna have a party tonight!"

And party they were having indeed. Law felt pleasantly warm, gradually approaching that perfect state of drunkenness where talking did not feel like a chore. He could perhaps do with several more drinks. The pain that had pounded his entire body throughout the day with every movement had faded into the distance, and though Law knew that it would only return with full force come morning, especially if he exerted himself, he pushed that thought far away and created a Room to bring himself another beer.

As he drank from his new tankard, Law observed the rest of the deck, trying to identify someone he found attractive enough to spend the rest of the night with but detached enough so that he wouldn't worry about unnecessary drama. Most of the Grand Fleet seemed too loud-mouthed for Law's taste; he needed someone discreet and not annoying. Zoro or even Strawhat himself were possibilities, but Zoro seemed primarily interested in drinking and Luffy was too noisy. Cavendish was obviously pretty, if not self-absorbed. Law was unsure if they even liked sex with men, but most pirates fooled around at sea indiscriminately—plus, Law could be surprisingly persuasive in this regard if he wanted to be. Nonetheless, Law discarded the thoughts because in all honesty, he was in the mood for female company.

This criterion narrowed things down tremendously, especially since there was a grand total of two women aboard this ship and both of them looked slightly overwhelmed with the degree of interest they were being shown. When it came to jealousy of Luffy, Law could only honestly say that the jealousy was only reasonable for just how attractive the Strawhat female crewmembers were while being incredibly competent at their jobs. It was rather unfortunate that Nami, who knew how to handle attention best, was not present, because she would've been earning tremendous amount of money with very minimal flirting.

Robin, always composed and polite, seemed to be handling her suitors fairly well, with her signature mysterious smile rooted firmly in place. She had been smart and had positioned herself near the staircase leading up to the less-crowded quarterdeck, giving her an escape. Spade, on the other hand, had unfortunately navigated into the crowded deck to look for a drink, and consequently found herself surrounded by heathens. She looked like she wanted to drown herself but not before she drowned everyone around her first. Her entire frame was tense like a tightened violin string, and she was constantly repositioning herself so that men would stop pawing at her.

Law gave a sigh. He did not want to be another simple man in a long line of men who did not respect both Robin and Spade's preference to simply have a good time without being harassed, though this sadly meant that he was likely going on a solo adventure tonight. Perhaps someone else would catch his eye.

A warm breeze hit his face, and a relieved Spade suddenly appeared next to him.

"Oh, thank God," she muttered, grabbing his beer without a second word and drinking it.

"You're welcome," he said, amused.

He waited several seconds, mildly impressed as Spade downed the entire tankard without pause.

"Thanks," she said, panting slightly as she tossed the empty container over her shoulder haphazardly. "That's all I wanted—a fucking beer, and I couldn't even get that without being mobbed."

"That's certainly what it looked like from here."

"Thanks for the help," she said sarcastically.

"You seem like the kind of person who wouldn't appreciate my help in those situations," he replied mildly. "Wouldn't it offend you?"

Spade rolled her eyes. "Don't be an asshole. It'd only offend me if you did it to get into my pants."

"It would've come off that way, I'm sure."

"Possibly. But still, doesn't hurt to help a girl out when she's being mobbed by your kind," she said, disgusted. "I'm gonna go up to the crow's nest, get away from everyone here."

"Is that an invitation?" Law said semi-jokingly.

Spade arched an eyebrow. "No, but you can if you want. I'm just gonna smoke."

"Smoking in front of a doctor, very smart," he remarked.

"That's why I didn't invite you."

"It's unwise to make assumptions, Miss Spade," he said, placing a hand on her bare shoulder. He was pleased to find that she didn't stiffen to his touch. "I'll transport us, don't move."

He created an almost cylindrical Room and they appeared on the crow's nest, along with two more beers.

"I don't know if I can get used to that," Spade shuddered as she sat down.

The crow's nest was fairly small, barely able to hold two people. Spade propped her legs up over the rail of the lookout point, right next to Law's face as he sat down across from her. He was a gentleman and did not turn to admire her long, muscled limbs with the tattoos he liked so much.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled box to withdraw a cigarette and lighter.

"It's rude not to offer, Miss Spade," Law said as he watched her light one for herself.

"I thought you were a doctor," she chided while handing over both light and lighter.

"I said it was unwise to make assumptions. I am a doctor who smokes," he said as the flame came alive in front of him. "I am the only doctor, actually the only person in the world, who should be allowed to smoke because I can actually cure myself when whatever disgusting disease occurs as a consequence. You, on the other hand, really should not."

"Is it your ability?" Spade said curiously. "How does it work? Zoro said anything within a Room is yours to manipulate."

Law nodded as he returned her belongings. "To get us up here, I merely reversed our positions with bird droppings. When I'm operating, anything in the human body is free for me to extract, replace, remake. Removing a solitary tumor is child's play. Metastases can be more complicated, but still doable."

"Amazing." Law sensed her compliment was genuine. "Is that how you cured yourself of the Amber Lead Syndrome? You simply extracted all of the toxin from your body?"

Law abruptly did not feel the conversation was as enjoyable as before, but he nodded curtly.

"Amazing," Spade said again. "With all that you are capable of…ironic that they call you the Surgeon of Death. Though I suppose your tattoos don't help your reputation."

She reached over for his free hand, taking Law aback, but he did not withdraw from her hold. Spade traced over the letters on his fingers, and as she did, Law studied the woman in front of him. He had spent the better part of the afternoon thinking about why he'd told her about his past. It truly wasn't something he tried to hide—none of the information could be used against him any longer—but it also wasn't something he shared freely. People had to be guarded with their history, because who they were as individuals came from their pasts, no matter how much they ran from it. Knowing about one's history meant knowing about one's weaknesses to exploit. Spade was a dangerous woman who seemed to have understood this concept from an early age, especially given Zoro's reports that extracting her history with Ace had been as painful and tedious as extracting teeth.

So why had she shared with him?

Contrary to how normal people felt when others opened up to them, Law found himself naturally distrustful. He would have to find a way to verify Spade's story, ensure that he was not being manipulated in some way.

He heaved a sigh. He was not supposed to be doing mental gymnastics when all he wanted was to get somewhat wasted and fuck someone. He did not think Spade was going to provide either relief, though her caress of his left hand was suggestive of otherwise. She was careful, her fingers surprisingly soft for a woman whose body had zero percent fat. If Law was not so sure of his previous judgment, that Spade did not like being touched, he would've reached over and kissed her already. The crow's nest would be an interesting place to fuck; he wondered just what kind of sounds Spade would make, if she would try to hide them, or if she'd let the entire crew ship know just how good he could make her feel.

She finally released his hand and reached for one of the jugs of beer he'd brought up with them. Law was still working on his cigarette—he hadn't had one in a while and had forgotten how relaxing they could be.

Right before she took a gulp, Spade said casually, as if she knew exactly what Law had been thinking about earlier,

"Robin thinks you're pretty. She's down to fuck, if you're interested."

Law choked on an inhalation and was reduced a sudden hack of coughing. Spade looked at him, her green eyes dancing with amusement over the edge of her drink.

"God, what the fuck," coughed Law.

"What part's the shocker?" Spade grinned. "You being pretty? Her being interested? Or that I said any of that aloud?"

"All of it," he said, reaching for his own tankard and drinking deeply. "Just…not where I expected the conversation to turn."

"And where _did_ you think the conversation would go, Trafalgar Law?" Spade said, voice so low it was practically a purr.

For a woman who had looked so harrowed with the crowd of men that had surrounded her mere minutes ago, Spade had completely transformed. Her full lips were set in a smirk, her green eyes were lively and sultry—or maybe that was just all the alcohol talking, but either way, Law found that her seductive techniques were annoyingly effective.

"Fucking nowhere," he answered shortly, finally having sufficient oxygen back in his system to speak normally again.

"Good," Spade smiled, eyes half-lidded. Fuck, she was toying with him and Law knew it. "You inviting yourself up here gave me a different impression."

"Believe me, it'd be a lot more obvious if I wanted to fuck you," he said bluntly, ignoring the fact that a part of his brain was currently occupied with a series of images depicting that exact act.

Strangely enough, this made Spade laugh. "That's good to know, actually."

"You, on the other hand, are sending very mixed signals," Law said.

"I'm just fucking with your head, Trafalgar," she said easily, straightening so she could stand up. "Can't have you getting too comfortable with me. But what I said about Robin is true, really. If you want to save a damsel in distress, you should give her a hand and maybe she'll give you one in return." Spade's grin widened. "Or a couple, I don't know the limits of her Devil's Fruit."

"Playing wing-woman tonight?"

"Ooh, wing-woman," said Spade, evidently thinking. "I like the sound of that. Maybe that can be another alias."

Spade straightened her arms out, letting Law catch full sight of the tattoo on her underarm. It was the outline of a bird, likely a phoenix, surrounded in a blue geometric design that looked rather angular to be flames. Nonetheless, the connection to Marco the Phoenix was clear.

Again, in that uncannily similar vein to his train of thought, Spade said,

"Marco says to name your price." Her tone had lost all its playfulness and as she stared down at him, her eyes had gone cold. "I told him you didn't deserve the favor, but Marco can be stubborn. Needless to say, if it's something stupid and dangerous, I'll lose the message and you'll regret trying to make a fool of him."

Law was not frightened, though he knew she was not making an empty threat. He had to wonder if this was part of Spade's game, being so mercurial so he could remember not to get comfortable with her.

"I'm not an idiot, Miss Spade," he answered. "I know better than to waste a useful offer."

Spade nodded, her expression clearing. "Then you know better than to keep Robin waiting."

Without another word, her profile disappeared into nothingness. Law drank the rest of his beer in no apparent haste. The agreeable buzz of the evening had been all but killed.

* * *

Spade woke up in the tiny quarters that she and Robin shared alone. The barest streams of daylight entered the room, and all was quiet as Spade sat up and stretched. She did not have a throbbing headache, thankfully, which meant that she was likely in better shape than everyone else on this ship in the sheer fact that she lacked a hangover. Luckily, this meant that she could count on several hours of general silence before the other crew members roused to life.

Given that the hour was early and that Robin had drunk a considerable amount yesterday, Spade suspected she was having a bit of a lie-in with Law. Spade smiled grimly. It wasn't like Robin needed a wing-woman—she was the kind of person who knew how to get what she wanted—but she'd provided an easy way out of the conversation with Law that had turned somewhat confusing.

Spade almost wished she had a headache so she couldn't think clearly, because even with perfectly lucidity, she could not understand why she had pretty much _held Law's hand_ for an extended period of time the night before. She hadn't even been drunk. She was just stupid.

She could not explain why she was strangely at ease around the Hearts Pirate Captain. Every fiber of her being knew that she was wrong, and her internal alarm was reared up on its hind legs with fangs bared when she was around him, but that was the thing—every signal in her body was on edge but _she_ wasn't. She did not shudder when he touched her casually. She was not nervous in his presence. She was not hyperaware and paranoid, she thought but did not overthink as much. She simply _was_.

Ever since they had conversed the day before and throughout his entire examination of her legs, Trafalgar Law's physical presence did not bother her. If anything, his physical presence pleased her. It didn't make any sense. Spade knew she was naturally on edge around people—she even had to tell herself to relax around Luffy—but something was different about Law.

It aggravated her, which was why the easiest thing to do was to get Law together with Robin and make All Things between Spade and Law very impossible. Because Spade would rather die than admit aloud that she had been very fascinated by Law's hands yesterday and perhaps a little more too.

Spade bit back a groan. She was rarely attracted to people; it didn't happen easily and hook-ups happened never. She'd been drunk yesterday. That was the only explanation for why she'd sort of wanted to put Law's fingers in her mouth.

Fucking fuck. He wasn't even her type. If Spade's body was so desperate to get laid, she should've found Zoro instead. Zoro's muscles were so nice.

Fuck, she needed to stop being so thirsty. She had shit to do. Spade rolled over and grabbed her bag that had all her Den-Den Mushi in it. It was the only possession she kept on her constantly. She otherwise really needed a new change of clothes, but would have to deal without it until they arrived at the next island. She stopped by the navigation room to grab a map as well, just to make sure they weren't sailing in circles.

Taking advantage of the unnatural quiet of the ship, Spade made her way back to the crow's nest. She had a lot of work to do, despite Marco telling her to relax. The news of Doflamingo's fall and obviously her involvement would be released with this morning's paper, and Spade expected new bounties for everyone who had been present. There would be chatter in the Underworld, and Spade would have to listen keenly for any rumor of her identity as Hurricane being compromised. She didn't know if she could expect anything from Aokiji; perhaps it was still too soon.

Spade sat on the surface of the uncomfortably shaped lookout and arranged her Mushi in order: first, the Untraceable to access her inboxes, then the Interceptor to see if she could pick up any rumors. Her two SOS Mushi, one for Marco, one for Aokiji, were stowed carefully in her bra because she could not afford to lose either of those—literally and figuratively. As she tinkered with the signals, she peered over a map. They were heading east from Dressrosa. She had met the child Momonosuke and his samurai guardians, Kin'emon and Kanjuro, citizens of Wano Country who were on their way to Zou, where Law's own crew conveniently was stationed. At the rate they were currently going, and with Spade on board to facilitate, they would arrive at Zou within the week, depending on how fast the island itself moved.

She traced their route with a finger. There were several smaller islands along the way that she could perhaps either convince the crew to stop at for supplies, and if not, would be close enough that she could make a stop on her own and rejoin them. Though she honestly would prefer to disappear and resume her work, Marco's order to relax was still an order, so she was supposed to play the part. In the meantime, though, she had a network to maintain. With the Underworld's Joker now imprisoned, Spade expected there to be power shifts among the Intel network, especially since ones backed by Joker would now find themselves sponsor-less.

This was why Hurricane did not believe in sponsors. Being fed information without any other sources of verification made an Intel Broker a one-trick pony, liable to the slightest disruption. Yet, if she had chosen a sponsor, Doflamingo certainly would have been one she would bet on. She supposed she had to give Law credit; Doflamingo's notoriety only made Law's achievements that much more impressive.

She tuned her Untraceable Mushi to her inbox by landing on a remote channel that any casual radio listener would assume was simply a dead channel. Carefully, she dialed in a passcode that then redirected her to another channel. She repeated this process twice more, with each passcode growing longer and longer, until finally she arrived at her inbox.

Getting a message to Hurricane was tedious. She had four layers of informants that strangers had to jump through in order to get her a direct message; unless they knew Intel Brokers of a higher Underworld rank, getting in contact with Hurricane took anywhere between four to six months. This process helpfully filtered out individuals who weren't desperate for aid. Spade appreciated desperate requests because they were typically accompanied by huge rewards, and so money was never an issue for her. Still, people like Sabo had enough Underworld contacts that they could contact her rather easily if they tried hard enough. Fujitora, as an honest Marine, would have a harder time, but any other technologically savvy Marine could manage.

"You have eight new messages," her Den-Den Mushi said.

Spade groaned. Eight was a lot for her, considering how difficult she was to contact. She prayed some were simply updates and not all requests.

The first three were stupid requests by jealous rich spouses, the fourth was the ruler of a small port city who claimed that he had been framed for the arrival of a shipment of toxin that had poisoned nearly a hundred local sailors and soldiers. None of them offered a reward that was worth Spade's efforts, though she did pen down the name of the port city to look up when she had time.

Unsurprisingly, she had yet another message from the Revolutionary Army. She had without fail received one in her inbox every week since her message to Robin last year; the rebel group had taken the act of generosity as a gesture of alliance, which Spade heavily disputed. She skipped over the message, intending to keep secret from the group that their second-in-command had already met Hurricane face-to-face.

"Next message from Fujitora."

Spade groaned. Holy shit, was the Admiral just stupid? How could he just use his Marine epithet—she prayed that he had used a White Blocker Mushi while making the call.

"It seems I have managed to contact you first, Miss Hurricane," Fujitora's voice came from the message. Spade banged her head lightly into the railing in front of her. He had just revealed her gender. This was why Spade's inbox had so many levels of security clearance: because of stupid people like the Supreme Admiral. "My contact number is SA67MP972, please contact at your earliest convenience."

Spade didn't know if she should laugh or cry.

"Next message from Ice Ice Baby."

Spade stared at the Den-Den Mushi and she swore the snail looked _smug_. She braced herself for the idiocy that was bound to follow. The message had arrived early this morning.

"Hey," Aokiji's voice came, clear as day. "I just saw the news."

This was followed by five minutes of laughter, with the words _Strawhat_ and _Trafalgar Law_ and _Doflamingo_ interspersed amidst the multitude of "ha's" that ensued.

"Man, I saw what happened with Sengoku. You must be pissed," the man who was supposed to be her mentor wheezed. "That was the funniest thing I've read in years, thank you. I'm fine, in case you couldn't tell. Just trekking along my journey of life. Stay well, don't kill anyone because—"

The message ended in gales of laughter that Spade had to endure because she did not know if Aokiji had any other substantial message. This was why the Marines were so useless. How men like Aokiji or Fujitora could even function in positions of power…Aokiji must've spent almost half an hour to send the call, ninety percent of which was just him laughing. Yes, pointing a blade at Sengoku's neck had been stupid and of course Spade was annoyed that everyone now knew she was alive, but was it really that funny?!

She wearily listened as her Den-Den Mushi progressed to the thankfully final message.

"Next message from Candy."

Spade straightened up immediately.

"Heard the news," came an altered voice, and Spade thanked God for Jewelry Bonney and her common sense to use a voice alteration program. "You must be pissed, but gotta hand it to Strawhat and Trafalgar Law. They did good work. I'm gonna be in your area and have some news. We should meet. Let me know if you get this."

After checking briefly around her to make sure that no one was awake, Spade dialed back immediately.

"Hurricane," said Bonney after only two rings.

"Hey," Spade said, careful to use her voice alteration program. "Candy?"

"God, I wish we'd chosen a better name," Bonney complained. "It makes me sound like a stripper."

"I'd pay for you," Spade grinned.

"Like hell you would, you're so fucking cheap."

"You using an Untraceable?" Spade asked.

"Yeah, still no Blocker though. I'm guessing you haven't gotten your hands on one either."

"Nope, it'll make my life a lot easier once I do."

"Let's make this quick then. Can you be at Crimson Bit today at sixteen?"

Spade consulted her map. "Yeah, that's perfect. Library?"

"Sounds good, see you then."

Spade hung up and was about to move onto her Interceptor when Robin's face suddenly emerged from the wooden floor until it sat as a severed head.

"Fucking Christ, Robin!"

"Good morning, Spade," Robin said pleasantly.

"Can't you just come up here like a normal person?"

"I'm taking a bath," Robin said. "How long have you been up?"

"A while."

"You should've slept in."

"I'm fine. You have a good night?"

Robin's replica face smiled. "I don't kiss and tell. He said you were an excellent wing-woman, though, so thanks for that."

Spade rolled her eyes. "Not that you needed me. Glad you had fun."

"Mm, you should try him sometime."

"Try him—have you always been like this, Robin?" Spade asked incredulously.

The older woman smirked. "Like what?"

Spade shook her head. "I'm just gonna assume yes and I must've missed all your trysts when I was with the Strawhats last year."

"Oh, I don't hook up with crewmates," Robin said with a firm shake of her head. "Makes things complicated. Law was easy, one and done."

"Good to know."

"What were you doing so early in the morning anyway?"

"Checking my messages. I was about to start listening for Underworld rumors before you interrupted."

"Oh, don't mind me. I'd love to see how you do it," Robin said, her enthusiasm genuine. "I wish I could've seen you check your messages, but I suppose that would've been private."

"Indeed." Spade wanted to tell Robin about her frustrations with Fujitora and Aokiji but doing so would out her contacts. Plus, she was never sure how Robin felt about Aokij, given his role in the Ohara Buster Call, and part of her didn't want to know.

Spade proceeded to turn on her Interceptor and went through a similar process, but instead of dialing in codes and letting the passwords guide her to different channels, she proceeded directly to known channels and typed her account number followed by a message through Morse code. To gain access to Underworld channels, you had to prove yourself valuable. Information was currency, and Spade had enough gossip to spare.

The Underworld Intel had Gatekeepers who worked round the clock to assess who had access to what level of information. Spade's information—Sabo of the Revolutionary Army had gained the Mera Mera no Mi, along with details about the Corrida Colosseum events—was information that the Revolutionary Army was certainly not going to hide but had not been disseminated to underground channels yet. This shocking bit of news only gave her more buffer to an account that was automatically granted immediate access to the most controlled channels, ones that held highly valuable information while also being verified.

"Is everything through code?" Robin said, visibly disappointed, as she heard nothing but taps of varying length and watched Spade as she scribbled things down.

"Not really," Spade said, careful as she multi-tasked. "It's just Morse code, so everyone can decipher it. Some Brokers don't like voice alteration programs because you can still tell who someone is based on their syntax or inflection. I don't worry about it as much because so few Brokers are women, so people wouldn't suspect me, and I'm careful with how I speak. Plus it's a pain in the ass to code and de-code." She switched a channel. "This channel's typically verbal."

Sure enough, a muffled voice started from the Den-Den Mushi.

"Doflamingo's downfall has spurred movement from Kaidou of the Yonkou. Jack the Drought has been dispatched to retrieve Doflamingo from the Marines, as Kaidou wants his Joker back."

Spade frowned as she listened and simultaneously decoded a previous message that said the same thing. Robin looked at her, no longer appearing so relaxed.

"Is all this true?" she asked.

"Hard to say for certain," Spade said. "Generally the channels I get access to have been verified, but you have to take things with a grain of salt. If you're powerful in the Underworld, you can control the information disseminated, sort of like how Doflamingo was able to control the World News, though obviously on a lesser scale. I try to verify things that are important to me, but things like this I just accept as true. It makes sense."

"Jack the Drought has a billion beli bounty," Robin said, alarmed. "What if he breaks Doflamingo out?"

"It's possible," Spade admitted, "but Doflamingo's being escorted by three high-ranking Marines. It's risky. Either way, it doesn't change the fact that Kaidou will still be after Luffy and Trafalgar, so it doesn't impact our course of action either way."

The Mushi continued speaking.

"The Kid-On-Air-and-Hawkins Pirate alliance, henceforth known as TriSupernova Alliance, has been confirmed to be targeting Red-Haired Shanks, in comparison to the Strawhat-Heart Pirate Alliance that is targeting Kaidou. No movement in retaliation has been noted from the Red-Haired Pirates."

"Stupid," muttered Spade.

She had tried to reach out to the Kid Pirates multiple times over the last two years to establish a contact but had been firmly rebuffed. Eustass Kid was all brute force and no tact but had the highest bounty out of the Supernovas. Having her hand in a relatively thoughtless but powerful crew would've been beneficial, but Kid's first mate, Killer, was harder to manipulate. It turned out that the crew only took information from the Underworld but never actively participated. She'd stopped trying to establish the connection after she'd heard what Kid Pirates had done to several spies that had reported their movements.

"Think they're capable?" Robin asked.

"Doubt it," Spade said dryly. "I don't even think Trafalgar and Luffy can touch Kaidou, but they have a better chance. When it comes to taking down a Yonkou, you need to find what matters to them first. Trafalgar is different from the other Supernovas—he singlehandedly discovered and brought down both SAD production and the SMILE factory without even having his own crew present. Even I hadn't heard about SMILE until two days ago. Even though Luffy is getting all the credit for defeating Doflamingo, it doesn't change the fact that Trafalgar was the one who found out all of this and brought the necessary team to dismantle this part of Kaidou's empire."

Spade tapped her pencil absentmindedly as she tried to find another active channel.

"You sound impressed," Robin said, eyes crafty.

"Of course I am," Spade said without batting an eye. "He must've worked for years to find all this out. It'd be a dream if I could do the same thing to Blackbeard."

Understanding dawned on Robin's face.

"I'll be up in a bit," she said. "Gonna get dressed."

She disappeared. Spade continued working, flipping open a worn journal and making notes in code of things she'd have to update Marco with. She had not heard any rumors about Hurricane, luckily, though her name as Skye Spade came up in several message boards. Many reported her as having rejoined the Strawhats, which was not entirely untrue. Spade wished she'd released the news herself—it would've been worth a lot, and it would have also deflected any suspicions from Hurricane.

Someone joined her on the crow's nest.

"You took so long, I thought Trafalgar joined you in the bath," Spade said, not looking up from her notebook.

"That would be an offer I wouldn't have declined," Law's voice answered, amused.

Spade jerked her head up, losing track of what she was writing, just to see Law peering down at her. He looked content, and Spade knew exactly why.

"Unfortunately," he said lightly, "I was just in the mess grabbing breakfast. Robin told me you were up here and said I should join you."

"Why?" she said suspiciously.

Law sighed and sat down gingerly. He was dressed in his original clothes, an open black jacket that showed a still-bandaged chest, and black pants. He was not wearing his dumb cap, and Spade mentally cursed Robin because Law really did look better without it.

"This place is so uncomfortable," he said, awkwardly stretching out his legs, "but I can see why you like it up here. For a wind user like yourself, I imagine the fresh air is comforting."

"Why are you here?" Spade repeated.

Law arched an eyebrow. "I was waiting for the paper, but then I remembered we have a rather rare commodity called an Intel Broker onboard, so I thought I'd just come and ask you what you've heard instead."

"I'm still in the middle of things," she said.

"Do you mind if I listen?"

"Do I have a choice?" she scowled. "You've made yourself comfortable."

"As much as I could in this tiny space. Ignore me and continue."

Spade begrudgingly did, tuning the Mushi to another channel. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Law played with the Untraceable Mushi that she had set aside, his face serious as he listened intently.

"Doflamingo's human auction house in Shabondy is in chaos after having only recently re-opened," the Mushi droned. "An announcement will be made at fifteen o'clock by the Tenryuubito living at Shabondy regarding the status of the slaves currently held in the house as well as the future of what the house will be."

"Useless," Spade grumbled. "How did such a useless piece of news get onto this network?"

"Likely a Doflamingo-sponsored Broker," Law said serenely, "scrambling for anything new. The auction house is always a hot topic, and the announcement could be useful to the right person. If someone was intending to say, save a slave, they know they have until this afternoon to do so."

"Not worth it. Could be fake," she said.

"Could be," he agreed. "I suppose you're right though, the auction house is largely useless. Doflamingo rerouted his human trafficking mostly to laboratories after the auction house was raided shortly after the Battle of Marineford. News of child trafficking and its relation to Devil's Fruit experimentation wasn't received well by the public, especially when it came so close to the Ohara Revelation. Unfortunately, slavery didn't disappear, but direct servitude to the Tenryuubito certainly took a blow."

"You must read a lot, Trafalgar Law," Spade murmured as she tuned to different channels, only to find static. It was still early in the morning—there was time for more news to fester.

"I try my best, Miss Spade. I mainly read what you write, of course."

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. The child trafficking report was written by you, of course," Law said, voice even.

Spade's eyes flickered up to him, and Law's gray eyes stared back carefully in return. He was observing her, and she hated that he was constantly placing her under scrutiny. That strange sense of comfort around him was starting to be supplanted with a wariness that caused her skin to prickle into gooseflesh.

Trafalgar Law was a dangerous man and she was never supposed to forget that.

"How did you know?"

Law shrugged. "An educated guess. I was following the news closely since obviously Doflamingo owned the auction house. It was a strange time for child trafficking news to be publicized, especially when slavery has been ignored by the Marines for centuries. When the Ohara Revelation came out, I read both enough to tell they'd been written by the same person. I started following Hurricane after that. Your reports made the Marines and Doflamingo flustered enough to relocate their efforts to remote laboratories. It's how I found Punk Hazard. You've done fine work, Miss Spade."

"…Thanks," she murmured.

She finally turned off her Mushi and closed her notebook. Law was still playing with the other snail, annoying it by mashing down on one of its antennae and causing the snail to squeal.

"Don't do that," she said shortly, extending her arm out for the Mushi. "These are expensive."

Law obligingly returned her snail.

"I get the feeling you're still wary of me," he remarked.

"Why is that a surprise?"

"Have I given any reason for you to doubt me?" he asked. "I thought we were getting along quite well yesterday."

"We met each other two days ago, Trafalgar Law," she said, eyes narrowed. "My distrust is warranted."

"You trust Robin, and she trusts me."

Spade did not like that Law and Robin were now on a first-name basis, but the thought was petty and she squashed it promptly.

"If only trust followed the transitive property," Spade said.

"I simply don't understand why you feel the need to hide information that does not harm you," Law said.

"You have no way of knowing what information could harm me and what can't," Spade said sharply. "Out of all the Supernovas, you're the one I find most dangerous. It should be clear why I don't trust you."

Law looked pleased. "Flattering in a roundabout way, Miss Spade. Is that why Hurricane never contacted the Heart Pirates? You know that Eustass Kid possibly has a literal loose screw for a brain, correct? What could you possibly get from him that you couldn't have asked me?"

"Fucking Christ," she muttered. How did Law know everything?

"I felt rather snubbed."

"Yeah, well sorry for hurting your feelings," she said scathingly.

Law waved a hand. "It's in the past. I'm not like Eustass Kid, Miss Spade. I understand exactly how useful having an Underworld Intel Broker on my side is. This alliance could be much stronger if we actually exchanged information."

"That's what you're not getting," Spade said coolly. "You're in an alliance with the Strawhat Crew. I'm an independent agent. What you decide with them does not affect me or my decisions."

"But it already has," Law said calmly. "From the moment you tipped me off in Dressrosa to the moment you saved my life. We _are_ in alliance, Miss Spade. I'm simply trying to show you how it can be beneficial for you too, if you are open."

Law was sarcastic and a bit of an asshole, but he was not a joker. His offer was sincere.

"Prove it," Spade said coldly. "Give me something I want."

"And what do you want, Miss Spade?"

She gave him a steely glare. "Surprise me."

Law looked almost delighted at the challenge. "I'd be happy to."

Spade was spared the need to respond when two gulls with the morning paper arrived, dropping a copy for both Spade and Law. The front page was plastered with two large posters that unsurprisingly belonged to Law and Luffy, establishing bounties of five hundred million beli apiece. She flipped the paper open and found the rest of the Strawhat crew, all with increased rewards for their heads. She kept turning the pages, somewhat confused that she was nowhere to be seen.

"You're on the back," Law said knowingly.

She flipped the paper, and sure enough, there was her poster, all alone on the back page.

 _Ava Skye Spade, of Ace of Spades. Known affiliate of the Whitebeard Pirates. Bounty: 500,00,000B Dead._ Her bounty had not changed since the one that had been released after she'd escaped the Battle of Marineford. The next line, however, was new.

 _1,000,000,000B Alive._

Her stomach dropped and she immediately looked up at Law, eyes blazing in accusation.

"I didn't tell anyone," he said calmly, knowing exactly what she was accusing him of.

And she believed him, which made things all the worse.

The Marines knew she was Hurricane.

* * *

 _free talk_ :

 _anyone who has read my fics knows i thrive off writing darker characters because there's always more room for character exploration comparatively speaking. i started AoS a long time ago, and though ace is definitely an atypical main character for me to write a pairing with, he made sense at a time where i saw_ one piece _as a much safer, happy world than i see it as now. after ace's death, oda shifted the tone of_ one piece _rather dramatically as a reminder that this is a world where justice has always been ironically sought and enforced._

 _in many ways, law and robin are very similar characters whose lives are shaped by the world gov't essentially massacring their homes. this childhood trauma (and having significant players kill their benefactors) and how they've dealt with this trauma guides their adulthoods, and they've had over a decade to learn how to adapt. spade's trauma is fresh, new, and also occurred in her adulthood when she was not entirely powerless. it's an interesting juxtaposition that will certainly influence their relationships._

 _ok, tl;dr:_ _this fic will definitely be darker than AoS and you can blame oda for killing ace off and making me feel this way and please note the rating change_

 _thank you all for reading and please leave your thoughts 3  
xoxo,  
_ _m.n_


	6. Crow's Nest

**Chapter 6** : **Crow's Nest**

Law liked looking at Spade. As he looked at her now, long black hair plaited in her normal braid, a crease between her eyebrows forming as she pondered the meaning behind her new bounty, Law found his mind wandering. He wondered what how she'd react if he reached over and eased that crease, how it'd feel if he traced his fingers down her face and into her mouth. He wondered how her bare skin would feel under his hands, how the rest of her body would react under his manipulation. He wondered how high her back would arch if he brought her to the edge of pleasure, how her face would look flushed once he tipped her over that edge.

She was so focused on the newspaper, lost in a sea of racing thoughts about Marines and the Underworld and many important things, while Law's mind only held the fleeting thought that he would rather like to watch Skye Spade break under his touch and beg.

Of course he had fantasies—who didn't? After being deprived of remotely attractive companionship for so long, Law could not blame himself for itching for sex. The prior night with Robin had been fun and satisfying, but Robin was pleasant and polite, which in and of itself did not bother Law but did prevent his darker urges from showing themselves during sex. Spade was different, feisty and acidic but so overtly self-controlled that Law knew the power trip he would get bringing her to heel would be something magnificent.

He blinked and the thoughts passed. He knew at his core that all men were hedonists, but Law was a man of superior being. He knew how to put a pin on his baser nature, and he reoriented his mind to more important things.

"It doesn't mean anything," he said.

"What other reason could they possibly have for giving me an Alive bounty?" Spade said, tone biting.

He liked that Spade had a temper, one that she tried very hard to keep in check but was showing constantly around him. The measured reactions that she'd had to him at their first meetings seemed foreign now; she was starting to ease up in his presence, no matter how much she resisted it.

"You are a known Whitebeard affiliate," Law said, reading from the bounty poster. "Capturing you alive means they could torture you for the rest of the crew's whereabouts. Marco the Phoenix is worth a billion beli alone."

"But that's not new information," Spade argued. "Why wouldn't they have it before?"

"Your bounty was for show more than anything when it was released after the Battle of Marineford. Most people thought you were dead. Now that you've clearly proved them otherwise, you're a much greater threat."

Law set his copy of the newspaper down. He was not particularly emotional regarding his own bounty, though reaching the half-billion mark was nothing to sneeze at. The increase was to be expected; Law himself knew that his actions at Punk Hazard and Dressrosa had set the New World into motion. Unlike Spade and Doflamingo, who influenced from the shadows, Law had loudly shattered the standstill the Yonkou had tried so hard to reach after Whitebeard's death. He was to be no one's lackey, and he made sure the most powerful forces in the world knew it.

"Relax, Miss Spade. You're most worried about your Hurricane identity, so that's naturally where your mind jumps. But the Marines have nothing to gain by hiding that knowledge—Akainu isn't the type who likes to play with the Underworld. With Joker gone, the Underworld is in a precarious position. Crushing the Intel network would be the final blow. He wouldn't miss that opportunity if he could."

Spade surveyed him, the worry easing on her face as she processed what he said. Her shoulders, always so tense, relaxed slightly as she nodded.

"You're right."

"I like the sound of you saying that."

"I know when to admit I'm wrong. I'm not that proud, you know."

"Your actions speak otherwise. Was there anything else that you heard earlier?"

"You haven't paid me yet, Trafalgar Law."

"You'll receive a payment in time."

"Sure," she said sarcastically, but acquiesced. "The TriSupernova Alliance is targeting Shanks."

Law was surprised, though slightly miffed that Kid's alliance had been given such a flashy name. "Oh? Strange choice."

"Stupid choice," she corrected him. "They won't be able to touch Shanks—that man isn't like the other Yonkou. Finding his weaknesses and actually abusing it will be difficult."

Difficult, but not impossible. Law always planned ahead and already had several ideas. "He was certainly not on my radar as a target. Anything else? Movement from Kaidou, now that he certainly wants to kill us?"

Spade looked at him almost sympathetically. "Kaidou sent Jack the Drought to free Doflamingo."

Law's heart stilled. He kept his face neutral even though he suddenly felt rather ill. His pain in his right arm had dulled to a constant ache but now resurfaced with renewed vigor; a sharp, almost heated throb laced from his fingers to his shoulder, reminding him that only recently, Doflamingo had ripped his arm clean off his body. Could Doflamingo be freed after such a brief defeat? Kaidou would surely punish him, but Doflamingo was too cunning and too valuable to be detained for long.

"Don't worry," Spade said gently, understanding his lack of response. "Kaidou's not my priority but I keep tabs on his team. Jack's strong as shit but Doflamingo's guarded by Fujitora, not to mention Tsuru and Sengoku are there too. Even Jack would have difficulty freeing him."

Law nodded stiffly. "You're right."

Spade gave him a small smirk. "I like the sound of you saying that, too."

Law scoffed. "Tell me, Miss Spade, if not Kaidou, who is your priority?"

"Blackbeard," she said simply.

"Figures," he said.

She gave him an odd look. "You really are different from how I expected you to be."

"In what way?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I knew you were smart and that made you dangerous, but I didn't expect you to be…emotional, I guess."

 _Emotional_. That was not a word that Law ever wanted used to describe him. He returned her stare coldly.

"Weak, you mean."

"No," she said. "Being emotional doesn't make you weak."

"Oh?" he said mockingly. "So did shedding tears and fighting with fury get you where you are in life?"

He expected her to get angry, but Spade still had that odd look on her face, half-smile, half-pity. "Sort of. I've always been a 'fight first, think later' kind of person. It didn't make me weak. But I learned my lesson, one way or another."

"And you think I have yet to learn mine."

"No, I think you learned yours thirteen years ago. I think you learned yours a little too well."

Law didn't know what was going on in Spade's head, but she seemed to know his thoughts and that terrified him.

"Maybe emotional wasn't the right word," she said. She reached over and her fingers brushed his right palm, and as if his body understood her touch to be the panacea to its pain, he reflexively grabbed her fingers, and the throb in his arm ceased. Law's imagination was starting to go haywire. He did not like this. Why had their positions suddenly reversed? Why was Spade calm, how could her gaze be this level, this intense, and why was Law unable to guess what her intentions were?

"Be careful, Miss Spade," he said, his voice hoarse. "Minutes ago you were saying I wasn't to be trusted."

She didn't reply immediately, just giving him a pensive stare that Law knew meant something more. When she spoke, she was quiet. "Maybe you'll prove me wrong."

She broke the contact and stood up to leave.

"Don't worry about Doflamingo," she said. "I'll keep you posted if I hear anything else."

Instead of disappearing into the winds like before, Spade walked down the staircase. Law watched the tattoo on her back ripple with each fluid movement, the flames surrounding the spade almost coming to life. He thought briefly about what she'd sound like if he pounded into her while she was on her hands and knees, his teeth marking one of her inked shoulder blades.

Law sighed and looked up at the sky. This was going to be a problem.

* * *

Spade took a bath after breakfast and used the privacy to make some calls. She left a message for Marco in code, with status updates and reassurances that she was safe, then proceeded to call Fujitora. As she waited for the Admiral to pick up her call, she played with the antennae of her Untraceable Mushi as it happily clung to the damp side of the tub. She checked to make sure that Law's abuse hadn't injured the merchandise—luckily nothing seemed awry, or Spade would've had to turn Law in and collect his bounty to purchase another Mushi.

It had only been two days and Law was starting to wear her down.

She'd held his hand. _Again_. Though this time, she had a better idea of why she did it. Law changed when Doflamingo came into the picture. She only had to remember what he'd first sounded like when he'd demanded for her to help destroy the SMILE factory to understand that Doflamingo had truly done a number on him. Unlike others who would poke and prod at this wound, Spade knew better. She only had to think of Akainu and Blackbeard and she empathized with Law completely.

With Doflamingo out of the conversation, though, Law was so smooth and focused that Spade found herself caught up in his tempo. Their interactions bothered her only in hindsight, when she could reflect on their conversations and dissect them for signs of manipulation. Law knew what to say and when to say it. Words did not escape him rashly, and that was different, almost concerning. Though she always had been annoyed at men's general lack of tact, their relative straightforwardness had made their intentions easy to read. From Luffy to Zoro, even Ace and Marco, the men that she befriended typically wore their hearts on their sleeves. Ace's lack of tact had always led to fights, and though Marco was more restrained, he was still direct.

Spade was not quite certain what to do with Trafalgar Law. She did not sense ill intent from him, and truthfully she could not think of a reason why he would harm her. Their priorities were different, and were it not for the sheer coincidence that Aokiji had wanted to meet at Punk Hazard, their paths would have likely never crossed. Law held a personal vendetta against Doflamingo, and by extension was targeting Kaidou. Neither of those individuals were ones Spade particularly cared for. With this supposed lack of overlapping goals, Law was technically correct—an alliance between the two of them could be beneficial by sheer fact that they had no reason to double-cross each other.

The real question was why she was so hesitant. Unlike many pirates of the Whitebeard age, Spade recognized that the Worst Generation was called the Worst for good reason. They were not simpleminded rookies who would die in the New World within the first month. Eustass Kid had a bounty greater than Luffy's prior to the Dressrosa incident, Capone Bege was a Rook Combatant under the Big Mom Pirates, and Law himself had become the youngest Shichibukai in history. She had always actively tried to be involved with the Supernovas, which was why her correspondence with Jewelry Bonney was useful. Still, if Spade was being honest with herself, she knew Law should've been her first pick. He was easily the smartest of the bunch, but perhaps that was what bothered her. She wanted a contact she could use, and Law was certainly that. The problem was that he was likely to use her, too.

She was jostled from her thoughts when Fujitora picked up the call.

"About time, Miss Hurricane."

"I swear to God," she growled, "if you aren't using a Blocker right now, you are verifiably the stupidest Admiral in Marine history."

"Of course I am," snorted Fujitora. "The Inspector General keeps one in his office."

" _Is he there with you!?_ "

"Do you take me for a fool, Miss Hurricane?"

"Yes," she groaned. "Just say Hurricane, will you? I'm altering my voice for a reason. The less people know about me, the better. And don't leave messages with incriminating information in my inbox— _why_ would you call yourself Fujitora?"

"That is the name assigned to me."

"Not in the Underworld!"

"I understood that Hurricane protects their contacts very well."

"I do," she said through gritted teeth, "but in the unlikely event someone can hack my inbox, then you're fucked and I can't protect you."

"Ah, I understand. From now on, I will be Meteor."

"Fine," snapped Spade, though the name was too obvious. "Look, did you tell Akainu about me?"

"Of course not, we've just begun our acquaintance."

"Then why do I have an _insane_ Alive bounty?"

"Miss Spade," Fujitora said, and Spade really, truly hoped that the man was using the Blocker Mushi and had ensured that he was alone, "you held Inspector General Sengoku at knife-point, then left unscathed."

"I wouldn't say unscathed. Trafalgar Law cut my legs off."

"Yes, well, our justice was not invoked, and your stunt was unfortunately widely publicized. Fleet Admiral Sakazuki is justifiably furious for you besmirching our reputation—bringing you back alive for public execution is only appropriate."

"Didn't you besmirch the Marine's reputation by bowing to Riku?" Spade said contemptuously. "Why doesn't Akainu want your head on a silver platter?"

"He did," Fujitora said mildly, "but then decided I should bring him Strawhat Luffy and Trafalgar Law's instead."

"Oh."

"Yes, I am following that group of vagabonds personally."

"Fine. In return, here's a heads-up. Kaidou's sending Jack the Drought to free Doflamingo. You guys should be careful if you don't want to get killed."

"Jack the Drought," murmured Fujitora. "Frightening. I appreciate the warning."

"Is the number you sent me your personal Mushi?" she asked. "Is it Untraceable?"

"Naturally."

"All right, that's how I'll contact you. But if you're not using a Blocker, don't say stupid things. You need to act like someone is Tracing you at all times."

"Your paranoia is exhausting."

"You're telling me," she said sardonically. "I'll be in touch."

She hung up and let out a breath, resisting the temptation to dunk her head under the water and never resurface. Her paranoia truly was exhausting. Sometimes she wanted to turn off her brain, go back in time to a point where her only concern was running from Marines like every other pirate.

 _You're lying to yourself_ , a voice in her head said. _You were always hiding from more_. _It's what got you and Ace in trouble. It's why you left him_.

A familiar nauseating burn had settled in her stomach, as if eating her from the inside out until she was left with nothing other than a smoking pile of guilty ashes. Spade blinked some bubbles out of her eyes and stood up. There was no point literally wallowing in her own filth, physical or mental. She had work to do.

* * *

Jewelry Bonney was never sure if meeting Skye Spade was considered a blessing or curse. The first time they'd met, Spade had been a literal ball of wind and fire that had dropped out of the sky with an equally crazy partner of hers, blowing up Bonney's newly minted ship just as it had arrived in the Grand Line. Ace of Spades had just started making headlines as the strongest rookies of their generation, and of course Bonney had the misfortune of being collateral damage in one of the duo's casual raids for supplies. Ace of Spades was young, fierce, and fearless. Bonney remembered thinking, even as she watched the mast of her ship burn, that a duo had never looked so free.

She'd cursed that duo for years to come, all while she made a name for herself fairly quickly, becoming one of the infamous Eleven Supernova, which was a title she rather liked. Being a part of the Worst Generation, on the other hand, was less riveting. She did not want to be lumped together with the man who had defeated Portgas D. Ace and handed him over to the Marines, the man who had sparked the Summit Wars, the man who had ultimately caused Whitebeard's death and stolen his Devil's Fruit like a crass vulture. In the aftermath, that same man had captured her and left her to the Marines, who had then sent her to Shabondy's auction house to be sold like cattle.

Bonney hated Marshall D. Teach with every cell in her body.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Librarian." A young woman with blonde hair appeared in front of her. She was wearing a red sundress, her lips painted a similar color, her green eyes shining mischievously as she smiled almost too brightly.

"Hello, young lady," croaked Bonney in an eighty-year-old voice, because that's how old she really was at the moment, and shit did it feel bad. Her joints ached, her muscles were atrophied, and damn did old people have terrible dental hygiene because Bonney was starving but chewing took too much time with her rotting teeth.

"I think I have a book on hold and I was hoping you could help me," Skye Spade said in a voice so cheery Bonney wanted to barf.

"Certainly," Bonney said, reaching behind the library counter and hoisting a huge set of textbooks to the surface. "I believe these are for you."

Her cheery attitude immediately dampened. "I was expecting just one book."

"Reading more never hurt the mind, young lady," Bonney answered, laughing very hard internally. "I think you'll find these very interesting."

Spade really should've been thanking her. Bonney had arrived on Crimson Bit an hour in advance with a giant set of books and notes that she had compiled for several weeks; she had just saved Spade hours of research.

Spade flipped open the first book, _Toxins and Tortures of South Blue_ , and was quiet for several minutes, reading over a brief overview that Bonney had written.

 _The World Government has been interested in biochemical warfare for decades, and there's rumors that the True Weapon everyone is trying to find so desperately is actually a biochemical. Punk Hazard wasn't the first of its kind. Kaidou's Zoan army is a result of this effort to discover how to weaponize natural toxins. Big Mom has commissioned multiple scientists to find a way to turn regular humans into giants. Naturally, Blackbeard is moving in the same direction._

 _In South Blue, where I'm from, there's a lot of movement from Blackbeard's fleet. I've heard a lot of people say that they're looking for Indigo Rings, a flower that is normally fine but can be toxic if you eat too much of it. It seems pretty strange because you'd have to eat a shit ton of Indigo Rings to die, especially if you're not a kid, but they've been paying big money for it. Seems like something they find important._

Spade's face remained impassive as she closed the book and glanced over the rest of the titles. Bonney had collected a wide range of texts, from medical to botany to general history, and had also included several local newspaper clippings from South Blue islands to help reinforce her point.

"I guess I better get started studying," Spade smiled, her voice that fake cheeriness again. "Thanks, Ms. Librarian."

She handed over what looked like a library card, which Bonney pretended to swipe but instead pocketed.

"Take care, child," she crooned.

Spade subtly snorted and shoveled the books into a large canvas bag that she'd brought with her.

"You too, old woman," Spade said under her breath. "Good seeing you. You age terribly, by the way."

"Fuck off," Bonney whispered.

Spade grinned and left promptly. After waiting the appropriate ten minutes, Bonney did the same, but instead of leaving the island, she went to attend another meeting. Some part of her felt guilty corresponding with Trafalgar Law, especially without telling Spade, but Spade did not own her. Law was simply a useful point of contact otherwise, and it was wise for Bonney to keep in touch with her fellow Supernova. Besides, it wasn't like Law had any idea who Hurricane really was—Bonney was one of the lucky few who had seen Hurricane in the flesh and knew it.

Bonney met Law in a small café near the port, choosing this time to appear in her forties. She was recognizable if one looked hard enough, but most rumors had placed her closer to North Blue—no one would expect her this close to Dressrosa.

On the other hand, given that Law's face had been plastered all over the front news, she was surprised he'd wanted to meet at all. His disguise was shoddy at best, a high-collared coat that covered half his lower face and a dark hat that looked more ridiculous than stealthy, but Law had a curious ability to appear unassuming if he wanted to be. It had tricked many into underestimating him, thereby making his skillset and latent intimidation that much more terrifying when he rectified their opinions.

"Didn't think you'd want to meet," Bonney said without preamble as she slid into the wicker seat across from him.

"We'll have to make things quick. Have you been in contact with Eustass?"

"Nope. You know we don't get along. I thought you'd have a better shot."

"I'd rather blow my brains out than try talking sense into Eustass."

"You could fuck some sense into him. Or was it vice versa? I always forget."

The reminder of this very drunken mistake always made Law testy, and Bonney never failed to bring it up. There was something positively delightful about getting under Law's skin, especially when the man was normally so staid.

"For fuck's sake, that was literally _one night_."

"One night but countless times, according to Kid," Bonney grinned.

"I don't have time for this," Law said shortly. "If you get in contact with him, or any of the others in his ridiculous alliance, tell him to back down."

"Kid won't listen to you and you know it."

"I know, but Hawkins might. If they really wanted to take down a Yonkou, they need leverage. They don't have any against Shanks. It'd make more sense if we bound against Kaidou together."

"Why didn't you just ally with them then?"

"Because a public six-crew alliance is just stupid," he said bluntly.

"Six?"

"Including you."

"Oh, no," said Bonney, shaking her head. "I'm here to get info and sometimes pass messages out of the goodness of my heart, but that's because I get other shit from you guys. I don't give a damn about Kaidou or Shanks. Y'all can go kill yourselves to your hearts' content."

"The whole point is we take down people _together_ ," he said patiently, "one at a time. If we fracture like this, we won't accomplish anything. Kaidou first, then Shanks, then Blackbeard."

"No," Bonney said firmly. "I've got one priority and it's Blackbeard."

Law half-smiled. "You surprisingly aren't the first person to tell me that today."

"Who else you talkin' to?"

"No matter. Please pass the message, Miss Bonney. I have leverage on Kaidou already. We can talk about Shanks later."

Bonney looked at him skeptically. "Like you can get leverage on Shanks that easily."

"Well, it shouldn't be hard. Everyone knows where Strawhat Luffy's straw hat came from."

"You _can't_ be serious. You just made an alliance with him—he helped you beat Doflamingo! You're just going to backstab him like that?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Law said vaguely. "But it's not like Eustass and the others have to know, mm?"

"You're a real piece of work," she said, disgusted.

"I am who I am, Miss Bonney. Tell Eustass to back off. I don't want him to be beaten before I can use him."

Bonney shook her head and stood up to leave. She met with the other Supernova because she had to, because information was crucial and because when push came to shove, a weak alliance was better than none. But it didn't change the fact that the majority of them were cruel, ruthless, and they'd tear each other to pieces the moment it served them best.

For all his manners and polite gestures, Trafalgar Law was no exception.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon and the heat was brutal. The ship had docked for a quick stop at Crimson Bit, and several crewmembers had gone ashore to grab supplies. Zoro had three swords, a change of clothes, and a jar of sake stowed away in his quarters; he therefore remained on the ship as guard, because he really didn't need anything else in life.

Trafalgar Law had stopped on the island briefly but had returned after merely half an hour, bringing back a small parcel of clothing, some maps and medical supplies, and several Den-Den Mushi. No one else was on deck, save for Zoro in the middle of his afternoon training, when the Captain of the Heart Pirates approached him and asked for a quick spar.

"You sure?" Zoro said, eying the bandages on Law's chest. "Can't imagine those don't hurt."

"I'll be fine. It'll be light exercise."

Zoro was doubtful that anything he did as part of his workout routine could be considered "light" by the average person, but if Law wanted a sword match, Zoro was not going to decline. The new bounties that had been released this morning had only served to stroke Zoro's ego further, and he was curious to see exactly what Law was capable of. Sad to admit, Zoro had not seen an impressive display of power from Law in Dressrosa that convinced him the bounty was warranted.

They began slowly, clashing blades only occasionally, as they grew accustomed to the other's stance and positioning. Law's nodachi was longer by one of Zoro's by almost an entire other blade, which took some getting used to. Mihawk had had a similar sword, and once Zoro made the connection, parrying Law's blows became easier.

He had to admit Law was good. His form was clean, his movements minimal while maximizing force. The control of Haki surrounding his blade was the most impressive bit; every time Law swiped his sword, the extent of its movement billowed several yards into empty air. If Zoro did not parry accordingly, he was certain that his body would be cut in two.

Still, Zoro had spent the last two years training with arguably the best swordsman in the world, and Law was no comparison. The Strawhat first-mate gradually gained ground, his three katana slicing quickly as he increased his pace and forced Law back into a corner. He could see the Hearts Captain grow wary with the loss of ground, but Zoro did not yield, pressuring him until finally Law's back was against the ship's rails and Zoro's sword was at his neck.

"I yield," Law said, his free palm faced outward.

Zoro dropped his blade.

"Thank you for the practice," Law said, looking completely unperturbed that he'd just lost. "It seems I still have much to learn in swordsmanship."

"Yeah," Zoro frowned.

"Something wrong?"

"I just don't get it," he said. "I get that you're strong, and you're not bad with a blade, but your bounty just doesn't make sense to me."

Law looked amused. "Did you take that brief match to be the extent of my power?"

"Well, that," Zoro said, scratching his head, "and all of Dressrosa too."

"Ah, well, none of Dressrosa was particularly glorious for me," he answered. "But tell me, Zoro, what would you have done if we'd been fighting and suddenly your blades disappeared and became bird shit instead? Including the one in your mouth?"

Zoro scowled. "That's cheap."

"A win is a win," said Law smugly. "Don't worry, it's not the first time I've been underestimated. Greater men have made worse mistakes, though I guarantee you that no one ever makes the same one twice when it comes to me."

"I'm certain you have everyone trembling in their boots, Trafalgar," said a voice behind them acidly.

Zoro turned to find Spade suddenly appear on deck, burdened by two large canvas bags. One was bulging with books, the other with clothes and other miscellaneous supplies. She was actually wearing a dress, which was bizarre because Zoro had legitimately never seen her in a dress before, and she was also blonde, which looked very weird as well.

"Shit, what happened to you?" Zoro said, somewhat aghast.

"It's a disguise, dumbass."

"You are not a pretty blonde," Law commented.

"Fuck you," Spade snarled, pulling off her wig.

"Did you get enough stuff?" Zoro said sarcastically.

"Fuck you too," she said with less venom—she at least had the decency to look ashamed as she shuffled the bags on her shoulder. "I had one outfit, okay? I needed more clothes."

"You bought the entire mall. And a library."

"It was an investment." Spade shifted, the weight of her purchases clearly weighing her down. "Is everyone else back yet? We should head out soon if we want to get to Zou by the end of the week."

"Luffy is grabbing another bite to eat." Robin approached the group, smiling benignly. Zoro noted that she had also changed outfits, wearing a low-cut blue top. Zoro rarely noticed wardrobe changes, but the shirt brought out the color of Robin's eyes. "He'll be here soon. Light reading, Spade?"

"I'll explain later," Spade said. "I'm going to put these up and get out of this dress."

"After you do," said Law, "I need to check your shoulder."

"What?"

"You're right-handed but were carrying both bags on your left arm, and you winced when you removed your wig. Is your shoulder causing you problems?"

"No," she said defensively.

The air around Law seemed to chill.

"Miss Spade," he said coolly, "do not blame me if your shoulder is infected and you become septic. I assure you, treating a superficial skin infection is much simpler than me having to amputate your entire arm and manage your kidney failure."

"How did we go from skin infection to kidney failure?"

Law raised an eyebrow. "Would you like a pathophysiology lecture?"

"No," she muttered. "Fine."

The two of them left for the quarters, Law having graciously decided to carry the heavy bag of books for Spade. Robin looked at them, entertained.

"Law can certainly be persuasive in the most curious ways," she remarked.

"Yeah, I told him I thought he was weak and he told me he'd make me eat bird shit next time," said Zoro.

Robin laughed. "You think he's weak?"

Zoro shrugged. "He's not Luffy."

"No, he's not," Robin agreed. "But they have different strengths. Law uses his brain a bit more."

"But Luffy's just fucking strong," he said simply. "Every single person he's fought is probably smarter than him, but Luffy just fights his way through and wins. If you wanted to compare the two, there's no fucking way Law would become Pirate King over Luffy."

"I believe that too," Robin said, and Zoro was relieved to hear that she was sincere. "Still, we'll need to be there to support him. These last few battles got me thinking—Zoro, do you mind teaching me how to use Haki?"

The request was surprising. Robin was considered one of the stronger members of the crew, but something recently must've unsettled her.

"I couldn't even be in the same room as Caesar since I couldn't use Haki," she explained. "We're at a point now where if I can't use it, I'm fairly useless. Besides, if I could use Haki on my clones, it'd be rather terrifying."

She had a good point. A Haki-imbued giant fist could send entire ships flying.

"Is it something you've tried before?" he asked.

"I understand the theory and have tried a bit, but it's been difficult."

"Yeah, it ain't easy," Zoro said, thinking back to his brutal training under Mihawk. "But you're right, we should give it a shot. We can start tomorrow morning, if you're up for it."

"Thanks," she said. "I figured, even with Spade back, less than half of us can use Haki. It's too dangerous."

"And it's not like we can count on her anyway."

Robin looked surprised. Zoro hadn't said the statement maliciously—it was simply a matter of fact.

"What?" he said. "You don't actually think she'll stay, right?"

"Where else would she go?" Robin said, bewildered.

"I dunno, back to the Whitebeards, back to the Underworld."

"The Underworld's not a place, Zoro, it's a network—"

"The point is, she doesn't want to be here," said Zoro impatiently. Spade was a flitting presence, just like her Devil's Fruit ability. Wind was fickle and unpredictable, felt but never seen.

Zoro liked Spade, had even been glad to see her return. But he was not an idiot. Even back when Spade had first joined the Strawhat crew, he could tell that she longed to be somewhere else. Learning about her and Ace's history made it obvious where that place was. With Ace gone, though, Zoro had half-expected that aura around Spade to disappear. Seeing her for only several days showed that on the contrary, the urge to leave had amplified, only this time, Zoro had no idea where she wanted to go.

"She says she'll be staying for a while," Robin murmured. She looked almost disappointed.

"Maybe a while," Zoro said bluntly, "but when she gets the chance to leave, she'll take it."

There was a pause, and Robin looked up at him curiously.

"Do you resent her?" she asked.

"What? Of course not," he said.

"You sound like you do."

"I don't," he insisted. "I actually don't mind her, I trust her even. She's just…"

"She's not part of the crew," finished Robin.

"Yeah," he said unwillingly. "She's not."

There was another silence.

Robin sighed. "You always know how to make a woman feel better, Zoro."

"What?"

"One of these days," the historian said with a weary smile, "a light will shine on that thick skull of yours and you will understand just what it is a woman needs from you and when."

Robin left, heading to the barracks to drop off her own purchases. Zoro was left feeling as if he'd missed something incredibly important, and whatever he had missed had caused him to upset Robin. He simply had no idea why.

* * *

Law had not been lying when he'd stated that Spade was not an attractive blonde, but he felt very differently about her red dress. He rather liked the traditionally feminine look on her and had been mildly disappointed when he re-entered her quarters to find that she had changed into her typical uniform of a backless halter-top and jean shorts.

"My shoulder's honestly fine," she insisted.

"I'll be the judge of that," he said, indicating for her to sit down on one of the makeshift beds. The two women onboard shared a small but private room. With the addition of Spade's newest purchases, the room looked even more cramped.

Law settled behind Spade and untied her bandages, making a "tsk-ing" noise as her wound came into view.

"I thought I told you not to soak the injury," he said.

"I forgot," she mumbled, sounding almost like a child caught in wrongdoing. "I took a bath this morning."

"It's infected," he said, slightly annoyed. He hated when patients ignored his instructions and complicated what should've been simple fixes. "You're lucky it remained superficial; we don't have intravenous antibiotics onboard, so you'd have been doomed if you became septic."

"Couldn't you just cure me?" she said curiously.

"I'm a doctor, not a miracle-worker," he said curtly as he opened his medical bag to retrieve antiseptic. "Removing disseminated bacteria is hardly easy."

"Didn't you say you could remove metastases from cancer? Isn't that disseminated?"

"Only if I know the type of cancer," he answered, "and if the cells haven't dramatically mutated. Without blood cultures, how would I know which bacteria to isolate from you? We don't have any of the necessary equipment on this ship, Miss Spade. I don't give you instructions for no reason—do heed them next time."

"All right," she said, again surprisingly pliant. "Sorry."

Law did not respond and wiped down the wound with the alcohol wipe, causing Spade to hiss in pain.

"I'm going to have to cut out the stitches and redo them," he said. "I can control some of the pain, but you'll be sensitive because of the infection. Do you need a topical anesthetic?"

"Can you talk like a normal person?" she said shortly.

"Do you need some pain medication," he rephrased.

"No," she said. "I'll be fine."

Law created a Room at her shoulder and proceeded to work, delicately cutting out the old stitches. Spade sat still and silently, impressively tranquil despite the fact that Law knew the treatment certainly was far from pleasant.

"You're typically uncomfortable with other people touching you," he commented as he cleaned the wound again and applied an antibiotic salve. "I'm surprised you're this relaxed."

"Me too," she said after a slight pause. "I'm surprised I'm relaxed around you too."

The honest statement took him aback.

"Perhaps you trust me more than you believe, Miss Spade?" he murmured.

"It's because you're a doctor," she said sardonically. "You don't give off the same perverted vibe that a lot of guys do—I'm guessing it's because you have to have some semblance of professionalism."

If only Spade knew the vulgar images that had spun through his head earlier that day. Still, Law had to give himself credit where credit was due, and Spade was correct—Law was a professional. As long as he was in his Operating Room, his patients ceased to be people and instead became problems that needed to be solved. He would have normally considered Spade's bare shoulder inked and lovely, but under the blue of his Room, it was simply flesh infected with staphylococcus aureus or streptococcus pyogenes, less likely pseudomonas. Law was frighteningly competent at dissociation—it made him an excellent surgeon and also an excellent killer, because as the Surgeon of Death, the two roles often coincided.

"Why were you alone on Punk Hazard?" Spade asked suddenly.

Law had to admire her dedication to work. Here he was, sewing her tender skin together without any anesthetic and her mind was clearly focused on dissecting the events of the last few days.

"It was my vacation spot," he said.

"No, I know what you were doing with Caesar," she said, annoyed with his response. "You don't have to be coy. I meant why were you _alone_? Why didn't you bring your crew?"

"Ah. Some things are best handled alone, as I'm sure you agree."

"You don't trust your crew?"

"I trust my crew with my life," he said seriously, "but I understood the gravity of what I was doing when I infiltrated Punk Hazard. My crew would've been a distraction and a liability. If I could not protect my men, I would've led them to their deaths pointlessly."

"Shouldn't you have a little more faith in your men?"

"You have not met them. Subtlety is not exactly their strongest suit. Besides, it would've been unfair to them to drag them along. They follow me for my dream to become Pirate King; Doflamingo was a personal affair."

"I see," said Spade. "I suppose I can understand that."

Law tied his last stitch neatly and started redressing the wound.

"Is that why you didn't rejoin the Strawhats?" he asked. "It wouldn't have been unreasonable to rejoin, you know. Strawhat has a vendetta against Blackbeard as well."

"You've known Luffy for a short period of time, but that's enough for you to know that revenge isn't a great motivator for him," Spade responded. "He's better off working to be Pirate King, and whoever he fights in the meantime, so be it. I don't have the patience for that. I don't give a fuck who's going to be Pirate King, just as long as it's not Blackbeard."

"That's reasonable," Law said. "No worries, Miss Spade. I can assure you, the last man standing over that throne will be me."

He finished tying the loose ends of the bandage into a neat bow.

"Confident, aren't you," smirked Spade as she turned to face him. "We'll see, I suppose. I think Luffy has an edge over you."

"In what way?"

"Strength, certainly. You have brains, but Luffy has Robin on his team. The last man standing needs to have the Devil Child of Ohara at his side."

"You don't think I know that?" Law murmured.

Spade's eyes flashed and before Law could react, her right hand was at his neck, the limb a crescent of sharp wind.

"If you think you can use Robin like that," she snarled, "think again before I cut that pretty head of yours right off."

"Miss Spade," he said calmly, "you're misinterpreting. I suggested no such thing. Unhand me before I get angry."

Spade was livid, but Law was sincere. He had no need to seduce a woman just so he could become Pirate King. There were other means to read the Poneglyphs, though Nico Robin was certainly the easiest method.

Still, it was interesting to see what could get a rise out of Spade. She had been so even-tempered up to this point—perhaps the poking and prodding at her shoulder had annoyed her enough that she'd finally lashed out, or Robin was someone truly important to her.

"Miss Spade," said Law, his voice now warning.

Spade obliged and withdrew her hand. The fight in her eyes seemed to flicker and fade as she clipped that mask of control back in place.

The Room had been closed, the operation successful. Law's duties as a doctor had been completed; now, he was just a man on a bed with a woman he itched to tame. He was vexed with her threat, and the small, irrational part of him wanted to push her down, run his hands down her body and teach her a lesson. He could do it. He could sense that underneath all those layers of control, there was a latent wild part of Spade that was dying for surrender, even if she herself wasn't aware.

"Spade," said a voice from the doorway, and the two of them were startled out of their staring match to find Robin watching them with a strange expression on her face.

"Hey," Spade said, standing up.

"Your arm okay?"

"It's just a mild case of cellulitis," Law said, also standing up to leave. "You'll take oral antibiotics for five days. No more baths, Miss Spade."

He exited the room, brushing shoulders with Robin as he did so.

"Captain Law," smiled Robin. "Luffy's out on the deck, ready to disembark. You may want to reorient him to the plan."

"He's such a child," muttered Law. "How does he get anything done?"

"He has loyal friends like us to support him," she said, her eyes winking. "In return, he protects us when we need it the most."

Robin had clearly overheard his conversation with Spade and her message could not have been clearer. Law wanted to groan. If he did not behave, he really would have to watch his pretty little head.

* * *

Spade had been lying face-flat and spread-eagled for the last three hours, and her entire body was starting to hurt. The needle at her back buzzed relentlessly as the tattoo artist peered pensively over her skin, slowly but surely coloring in the outline of a huge spade on her back. The process was tedious and painful, and she wanted to curse Ace to the ends of the earth for convincing her to get this tattoo when he was currently sleeping comfortably and pain-free below her.

"Hey," she said shortly. "Wake up. The least you could do is keep me company."

"I'm up, I'm up," he said sleepily. He opened his eyes and gave her a little wink. "You look comfortable, like you're getting a massage."

"This is the furthest fucking thing from a massage."

"I know, babe," he said, curling his body upward so that he could peck her on the lips. "You're doin' great. It's gonna look fucking amazing."

"It better," she whined. "I'm going to be so sore."

"I know, my Whitebeard one hurt like a bitch for a week," Ace said consolingly.

"I remember," she said dryly. "You wouldn't stop complaining."

"It wasn't that much!" he protested. "Besides, I was still able to put out so it couldn't have been that bad."

"God, Ace!" she said, flushing.

"What?" he said cheekily. "Don't worry, babe, we can still fuck even when you're sore—you can be on top, 'cause I like it when you ride me—"

"ACE."

The tattooist coughed loudly, reminding both of them of his presence as he continued to silently and professionally work. Spade wanted to die and bring Ace to hell with her.

"Come on," laughed Ace, because nothing in this world could embarrass him, "I'm just tryna make you relax a bit!"

"It's not working!" she said loudly, burying her face in the hard mattress she was laying on. "Can't you do something other than talk about sex and how much you love embarrassing me?"

"Okay, okay, sorry," he said, shifting his position so that he was kneeling and eye-level with her. He pressed his lips to her forehead comfortingly before he looked over her shoulder to assess the tattoo's progress. "Fuck, Skye. It looks so good."

"Good."

"…You didn't tell me you were gonna have my name in the center of the spade," Ace said, sounding uncommonly serious.

"Oh…yeah," she said lamely. She had conveniently forgotten to mention that she wanted his trademark ASCE when she'd described the concept for the tattoo.

"Skye, that's so fucking adorable." Ace said it with such genuine fierceness that Spade blushed to the roots of her hair. "But why did you include the S? You always complain how mine looks like a mistake."

"It's nothing," she mumbled.

"C'mon, Skye," Ace said encouragingly, sitting in front of her and looking at her with that innocent earnestness only he possessed, as if listening to what she had to say was the only thing in the world that mattered to him. "Tell me."

Spade's heart was beating so fast, she could feel it in her throat. She did not understand how, despite that they'd been sleeping together for the last year, he could still make her as anxious as the first night.

"Because I want people to know who my partner is," she said, voice muffled into her mattress. "And because it looks like…it looks like I was going to put my initials first, but then you came and took over instead."

Ace was uncharacteristically silent for so long after that Spade looked up, hesitant to see what she'd find. The Firefist's face was as scarlet as the beads he wore around his neck, a sight so unusual that Spade started laughing. Normally, it was she who was too embarrassed to speak, never the other way around.

"Stop laughing," muttered Ace, covering his face with one hand.

"You're never this red! Even that time you fell asleep on deck without your hat and got so sunburnt you peeled for weeks—"

"What'd you expect?" said Ace indignantly. "You never say cute things! Now I know why, because when you do, they're so fucking sweet that they make me wanna cry—"

"Stop being dramatic, you're making everyone uncomfortable."

Ace took her face in both of his hands, the temperature of his skin enough to make Spade flush, and kissed her deeply. He was gentle, earnest, his lips conveying an urgency and depth that he usually reserved for rare moments like these, when he wanted to tell her something significant. When he pulled away, Spade was panting, the pain in her back all but forgotten. As embarrassing as Ace's earlier comment had been, she could not deny that the only thing she wanted to do after that kiss was push him down in front of her and ride him until they were both seeing stars.

"I love you," he said, voice low and gaze strong. "I love you so fucking much."

Spade's complexion now matched Ace's, and she replied in a very quiet voice,

"I love you too."

The tattooist at her back groaned loudly. "You two are so fucking gross."

Spade buried her head in the mattress, ears burning. She had to agree.

* * *

The week passed by swiftly, which was unfortunate because Law appreciated the relaxation. His wounds healed well enough that he no longer needed to bandage his torso. His right arm was still tender and required the bandages as a splint, but he had recovered full range of motion, despite that the pangs would shoot up and down the appendage at inopportune moments. It was annoying because it was unpredictable, and also because chronic pain was something Law did not know how to treat. Pain was not a substance that he could simply remove from his body as he wished. The science behind pain was terribly unclear, despite that the experience was fairly universal. For the time being though, he bore through it and opted for analgesics rarely.

The crew onboard was eagerly anticipating its arrival at Zou, a sentiment that Law shared. It had been a long time since he'd seen the rest of the Heart Pirates, and he felt bad that they'd been captain-less for several months now. Though he knew Bepo was likely ecstatic to return to his birthplace, Law was not certain he wanted to stay at Zou for long. Kaidou was on the move, according to Spade, who'd told him rather sedately the day before that it was possible Kaidou had somehow found the TriSupernova Alliance and defeated it before they'd even set out to find Shanks.

"Seriously?" Law said, stunned.

Spade shrugged. "I'm not sure. The channel I was on isn't that reliable, but I thought I'd let you know."

The news had exasperated Law. Why was Eustass so useless, especially before Law even got the chance to use him? He supposed he could not be too harsh though; it didn't seem like the Kid Pirates had actively sought out Kaidou, though Law was certain that they had not attempted to run when they should have.

"Anything else?"

"Jack lost. Doflamingo is in Impel Down. Newspapers say Jack's dead, but life is never that easy."

Law had to agree, but the truth remained that Doflamingo was in chains and Law was free. His victory over his old mentor still held, and that itself was significant.

Aside from the brief news update, Spade had been fairly distant with him, preoccupied with the stack of books she'd brought back from Crimson Bit. Whatever research she was doing, she had enlisted Robin to help, for the two women were often seen on the upper deck perusing the texts intently, occasionally speaking when they came across something important. Law was curious and had looked through the titles, but the subjects were wide ranging, from toxicology to South Blue history. He was not curious enough to pry any further, especially when he was preoccupied with more urgent matters.

Still, as the only physician on board, it was Law's responsibility to ensure that the health of his patients was secure. After eating a light lunch that was not satisfying in the least, (they were running out of supplies on their seventh day of sailing), he made his way up to the crow's nest, where he knew he would find Spade.

Sure enough, the Hurricane was curled up against the railings of the lookout point, several books scattered around her. Law was surprised to find her sleeping, her chin tucked in as she breathed deeply and evenly.

He sat down quietly next to her and set his medical bag down beside him. Spade had spent the last several days alternating between reading and training, focusing particularly on hand-to-hand combat with Zoro and Luffy. Law had found himself watching her from afar; a voice in his head reminded him that he was being creepy, but he determinedly ignored it. It was not abnormal that Law kept having fantasies of Spade that popped in his head randomly; this happened with many attractive individuals, sometimes with Robin, sometimes with Zoro, and he had to accept that it was natural. True, Spade occupied the majority of these thoughts, but he found the woman both objectively attractive in physique and subjectively attractive in mind, so he could not berate himself too harshly.

As he watched her now, though, his mind kindly decided to avoid the gutter and instead wandered to predictions of what exactly Hurricane intended to do next. Spade had made it clear that Kaidou wasn't a priority, but she had shown some interest in the samurai from Wano Country who insisted that they sought refuge from Kaidou at Zou. Law knew little about the politics of Wano County and it seemed Spade was in the same boat; not knowing why Kaidou was chasing the Wano citizens appeared to irk her. If whatever they found at Zou piqued her interest enough, perhaps she would stay with the Strawhats.

Law found it unlikely that he could convince her to stay with him, especially because he wasn't quite sure what he'd do with her. He wanted Hurricane as a contact, but what use was she if she was cramped up in a submarine? But if Hurricane was let loose, what guarantee would he have that she would continue the acquaintanceship?

It simply boiled down to value. Law needed to give Spade something she treasured so he could prove that the Heart Pirates were worth Hurricane's time. If worst came to worst, he would have to invoke the favor the Whitebeard Pirates owed him, but it seemed too early to play such an important card.

Spade stirred beside him and opened her eyes. She didn't even seem to notice him, so preoccupied she was with something only in her mind.

"Miss Spade?"

She visibly jumped, staring at him with wide eyes that looked wet.

"Fuck," she said tiredly when she realized it was him. She turned away and rubbed her eyes. "Scared the shit out of me."

"Apologies," he said, studying her intently. "I came to take out your stitches."

Spade nodded, her face still in her hands. "Sure, just a sec."

Law decided to be generous and gave her five seconds before he pried. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," she said, sounding beaten, "just…had a dream."

"A bad one, it seems."

She continued to talk with her hands shielding her face. "No, it was good. Just…unexpected."

 _Do you want to talk about it?_ He'd ask if Spade were a friend or a crewmember. But Spade was neither of those things, and Law was hardly a sentimental person. He just waited for her to regain her composure and picked up one of her books, _Pricing Botanical Arrangements_ , to occupy himself instead. Law had no doubt what the contents of Spade's dream had been; the extremes of Spade's emotions were clearly always associated with Portgas D. Ace.

The worst kind of ex-lover to compete with was a dead one. Law sighed and mentally chastised himself. Why was he competing?

"Okay," murmured Spade, finally facing him appropriately.

Law ignored that her eyes looked red and she looked more exhausted than she should've after waking up from a nap.

"Turn around."

Spade obeyed, her docility not as delightful as Law would've expected. The context was wrong, and Law had hardly exercised any power.

He un-bandaged her shoulder, pleased to find that the infection had cleared and the skin had healed smoothly. The stitches intersected her skin loosely, their purpose expired. He snipped through each loop of thread easily and pulled them out one by one.

"You've been reading rather diligently these last several days," he said to break the silence, because Spade's mind was clearly elsewhere and Law found that he petulantly wanted her attention on him. "Care to share?"

"Just some things about Blackbeard," she answered. "Nothing you would be interested in."

"Blackbeard may not be my target, but I like to be well-informed," he said. "It's unwise to assume what I would or wouldn't be interested in. Perhaps I can help, if you let me."

Much to his surprise, Spade agreed.

"I got a tip that he's been looking into biochemical warfare, like Kaidou was with Caesar Clown," she said. "Something about Indigo Rings."

"A flower grown in South Blue," said Law. "Can be toxic if ingested in large quantities."

"Yeah, that's what I've read. But it has to be a shit ton. And the death is slow, giving people plenty of time to administer a cure. The mode of poison doesn't seem to be conducive to it being a warfare drug. Robin's been looking at the history and there's nothing too significant about its trading patterns—it's usually just sold because it's pretty, nothing else."

"That is true for the main strain," said Law, "but medically speaking, there's a rare form of Indigo Ring that has other purposes, depending on what part of the flower you use. The thorns can cause paralysis similar to botulism; the petals can be a muscle relaxant. I've read that the bulbs can be juiced to create a kind of analgesic, too."

Spade turned backward to look at him. "Really? I hadn't read anything about it."

"It's not commonly used. It's hard to find, and there are other drugs that are cheaper and effective. Apparently only one island in South Blue has it, but it's difficult to get to and even then, it's tedious to gather."

"What island?"

"Baterilla."

Spade stared at him, and Law realized that she was forming a connection that he was not.

"Care to share, Miss Spade?"

"Baterilla is the island where Ace was born," she said through gritted teeth. " _Fuck_."

"A coincidence, I'm sure."

"No," Spade said firmly. "I don't believe in coincidences like that. Blackbeard knows. _Fuck_. I don't know he's fucking with me or if it's true and he thinks it's ironic to find a weapon where Ace was born. He got Whitebeard's fruit off his deathbed, and now he's trying to get a weapon of mass destruction off his birthplace. _Fucking shithead_."

"You're jumping to conclusions," Law said calmly. "You do that when you're emotional. It clouds your judgment."

She glared at him, but again, Spade's control constantly amazed him because she seemed to think for several seconds before nodding curtly. "Fine."

Law removed the last of the stitches and packed up his tools.

"Your shoulder's fine," he said. "You should be able to use it freely."

"Thanks. How's your arm?"

"It is what it is," he answered vaguely.

She looked at him appraisingly. "It got torn off and reattached, Trafalgar. It's okay if it's painful still."

"Thank you for your concern. It is painful, but there's no point complaining."

Spade looked like she wanted to say something else, but a horn sounded below, followed by Luffy's excited shout.

"It's a fucking gigantic elephant!"

Sure enough, the two of them looked ahead and saw the great looming shadow of the elephant moving slowly away from them, carrying Law's crew with it.

They had finally arrived at Zou.

* * *

 _free talk_ :

 _everyone on this ship is so thirsty lol._

 _in a more serious vein, these chapters have been insanely long and yet i always feel like nothing has happened...this is definitely a fic that depends heavily on dialogue and internal monologue for character development, and i am somewhat sorry for it but not really because i really do love writing these conversations. that being said, i understand it's a lot of text to get through._ _we're still following canon pretty closely but things will start ramping up, especially with the introduction of these side goals. i like being able to make my plots intersect with the canon one so hopefully those transitions will proceed smoothly._

 _it was nice to write ace again, even if it was briefly. comparing ace and law will obviously be a focal point to this fic, and how spade defines herself as an individual relative to these two very different men will be interesting to write._

 _thanks for your reviews and hope you enjoyed this chapter. please leave your thoughts!_

 _xoxo,  
m.n_


	7. Infarction

**Chapter 7** : **Infarction**

Contrary to how Spade had described him earlier that week, Law was not an emotional person. The tragedies of his childhood had taught him how to hide his thoughts, and that translated to stifling expressing _feelings_ of any sort because showing them essentially meant weakness, no matter what the Hurricane had tried to convey otherwise.

Still, seeing his crew after so long brought a rare genuine smile to Law's face. They were overwhelmingly ecstatic to see him, and the warmth of their reactions reminded Law that yes, despite having a pretty shitty childhood by most people's standards, he was lucky to have a family that followed him and loved him as much as his crew did.

The reunion was cut short, unfortunately. The members of the Mink Tribe escorted them promptly to a cave that held one of their greatest secrets: one of the four Poneglyphs that detailed the road to Raftel, the last island of the Grand Line. Once in the safety of the cavern, they spent little time updating the newcomers with the recent happenings at Zou, where Jack the Drought had forced his way in and tortured the leaders to find a ninja named Raizou, another retainer from Wano Country. Based on information from the Wano Samurai who had arrived with the Strawhat crew, the Mink Tribe and Wano Country had a historical pact of loyalty to one another, one that Kaidou had threatened by overthrowing the previous daimyo of Wano.

The news that Kaidou was involved with the politics of another country wasn't terribly surprising; Kaidou was known to be violent, cruel, but above everything, simply _bored_ with life. Being the strongest creature in the world made him seek out any form of entertainment, from attempting suicide to building Zoan armies. The quest to reach Raftel and find the One Piece was merely a goal to keep him occupied, especially since no one since Gol D. Roger's crew had accomplished the feat. Much to the collective group's astonishment, the previous Wano daimyo was Momonosuke's father and had been a member of that infamous crew that had discovered the True History; Kaidou had tortured and ultimately killed him when the daimyo refused to reveal the path to Raftel. The explanation of Zou and Wano Country's state of affairs was followed by a formal request for an alliance between the Mink Tribe, the Kouzuki clan that historically ruled Wano, and the two pirate crews present.

All this information was processed in different ways by its listeners. Luffy clearly saw the transgressions against the Wano and Mink people as a great act of injustice, one that needed to be rectified. Zoro saw it similarly but mostly recognized it as a training opportunity against a Yonkou. Robin read and understood one of the four Poneglyphs that would lead to the True History. The rest of the Strawhats were rightfully terrified at the prospect of this upcoming battle, but would follow their captain loyally.

Where Law and the rest of the Heart Pirates came in was slightly more complicated, but the alliance with the Strawhat crew still stood for now. Kaidou would be chasing his crew no matter what, and so it was better to fight alongside the Strawhats, as well as the ninja from Wano and the members of the Mink. Luffy had essentially volunteered his services without even consulting Law, much to his chagrin, but the Hearts Pirate captain did not protest much.

Where Skye Spade fit into this picture was even less clear. She absorbed all the information presented to them with intense concentration, only speaking to ask questions for clarification. Her expression showed nothing except that she was thinking deeply; Law imagined that she was rearranging a jigsaw puzzle of important information in her head, trying to fit this new material in an already expansive network. In the same way Nami's eyes sometimes glistened with Beli signs, Law could tell that the primary thought occupying Spade's mind was what this information was worth to her.

"In addition to this alliance," said Nekomamushi, one of the guardians of Zou, once the group had relocated out into the fresh air of the Zou forest, "we have been trying to get in contact with a certain man whom we believe can strengthen our forces considerably."

"Who?" Luffy asked.

"The former First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates," was the reply, "Marco the Phoenix!"

"What?!" Usopp exclaimed. "How would you know him?"

"Inuarashi and I were on Whitebeard's ship back in the day," the large feline grinned. "Marco was just a little thing then, but we were friends!"

"Wow, that's amazing! But didn't he…since last year, after the Payback War…"

"You are correct," said Inuarashi, the other Zou guardian, "we can't get our hopes up. Even if we manage to find him, our chances are slim."

Luffy looked so confused, he could've been constipated. "Marco…who's that again?"

Law purposely glanced over at Spade, whose previously neutral expression had morphed into one of great annoyance.

"He's blonde, looks like a pineapple," she said shortly.

"Oh!" Luffy exclaimed. "Him! I have to thank him, he saved my life after the Summit War!"

"That he did," she said exasperatedly, but when Luffy turned to grin at her widely, she softened.

"People haven't heard from him since the Payback War," Inuarashi said solemnly. "We do not even know if he is alive."

The rest of them looked to Spade pointedly, who was staring determinedly at her nails as she stood a good distance away. The Zou guardians clearly had no idea who she was and had assumed she was part of the Strawhat crew; given that Spade had not taken the time to introduce herself, the Strawhats seemed unsure of what information was theirs to provide. Law, on the other hand, held no qualms.

"He's alive," said Law. "We spoke recently."

"What?" gasped Nekomamushi. "How? What relation do you have with him? How can we contact him?"

Law pointed at Spade. "I assume you all have not had the chance to read the news. We have with us a known affiliate of the Whitebeard Pirates, Skye Spade. I'm sure she can provide more information."

Spade shot Law a lethal glare and shifted uneasily as the two guardians turned to her.

"Is this true?" Nekomamushi asked. "Is Marco alive?"

"He is," she said reluctantly.

"Do you know how to find him?"

"Maybe," she said vaguely.

"Please," the great dog guardian said seriously, "we require his assistance. Marco is incredibly strong and if he has the remainder of the Whitebeard pirates behind him, we can certainly stand a chance against Kaidou. Would you please help us find him?"

Spade looked supremely uncomfortable, but as they gazed down at her, her expression hardened.

"No," she said. "I refuse."

"What?" Usopp said indignantly. Spade's reunion with the rest of the Strawhats had been equally brief, but it was enough of an interaction for Law to deduce that she was even less relaxed around them than she was with him. "Why not? We need his help!"

"There's nothing in it for us," she said frostily. "Kaidou isn't one of our concerns."

"Please at least give Marco the message!" Nekomamushi insisted. "He will listen to us, I swear."

"I know," Spade said coldly. "That's why I refuse."

"Ava, c'mon," said Luffy encouragingly. "These people are our friends! We have to help them out. Marco saved me after the Summit War, and I'm sure he'd want to save these guys—"

"You didn't even know who Marco was until two seconds ago," Spade said through gritted teeth. "Do _not_ assume you know what he would choose."

Luffy shut his mouth, looking hurt, but Spade appeared so incensed that she did not bother comforting him.

"Do not make us fight in a war we don't belong in," she said, the edge in her voice cutting like knives as she directed her words to the Zou guardians. "Marco may be stupidly kind-hearted sometimes, but that's why you have assholes like me in place to turn down requests that don't benefit us. You said it yourself—even with Marco and the Whitebeards with you, you'd only 'stand a chance.' I'm not risking Marco's life for a shitty chance to kill a guy who's not a priority to us. He's worth way more than that."

An awkward silence ensued, one that Law thrived in. Bepo shot him an odd look, and Law realized that it was because he was almost smiling.

It was Luffy who broke the silence.

"He's important to you," he said simply.

Spade looked almost pained. "More than life."

The declaration was uncharacteristic of her and unwise. Spade found Marco more important than her own life. This was information that Law could use in the future.

"Okay then," Luffy said, nodding. "We won't ask him."

"Don't be ridiculous," Law cut in. "We don't stand a chance against Kaidou as we are. We've lost the leverage that Doflamingo represented and have learned nothing else to help us. Having the Whitebeards on our side is tremendous—we have someone here who knows how to contact a powerful group that has been missing for over a year. We should use her."

"You imply that you _can_ use me," Spade said, green eyes flashing.

"I did not imply, Miss Spade. I stated that rather explicitly."

The edges of Spade's profile became blurred as she approached him in her Logia form, winds already wild around her.

"You should be very careful, Trafalgar Law," she said, voice burning. "Don't pick fights you can't win."

Bepo stepped between the two of them, his hackles bared. "I won't have anyone threatening our captain!"

"Stand down, you stuffed animal," Spade snarled, Haki surging as her lips curled in a way that made her look more feral than the polar bear.

Much to Law's dismay, Bepo bowed his head and listened. "Sorry."

"Bepo," groaned Law, "I was proud of you for about two seconds. Miss Spade, be reasonable. The very least you can do is convey the message and let Marco decide—that's the whole point of being a captain. How would he feel knowing you make his decisions for him?"

"How will he know I've done such a thing when there's no one here even knows how to contact him?" she sneered.

"He owes me a favor," Law reminded her.

"And I recall telling you that if it was a stupid request, I'd lose the message and make you regret ever making it."

"It's okay," said Luffy. "Ava doesn't want to ask him and I don't wanna—"

"This is not the way I run my ship," said Law coldly. "Crewmembers do not simply get to do what they feel like doing—they do what's best for the entire crew. If you don't agree, Strawhat, then step down. It's a lesson I'd be happy to teach in your stead."

"I am not your crewmember," Spade snapped. "I have no reason to listen to you or follow your orders, Trafalgar Law."

"Then let's make a deal," Law said, drawing Kikoku out of its sheath. "You and I will fight. If I win, you will lead my ship to Marco the Phoenix, where I will ask on behalf of this…ridiculous Ninja-Mink-Pirate Alliance for the Whitebeards' assistance in the upcoming battle with Kaidou."

"And if I win?" she said. "You have nothing I want."

"I'll tell you how to get to Baterilla and how to find the rare breed of Indigo Rings I spoke about earlier," said Law calmly.

Spade's eyes widened—she had clearly not expected this. Law was pleased with the reaction. Finding leverage when it came to Hurricane was rather difficulty, especially when she brokered so much information.

"You think Blackbeard's interested in them, don't you?" he said. "I did some research on that strain several years ago. I have several theories why Blackbeard would seek them out for warfare. Unfortunately for you, I'm likely one of very few who can tell you the information you want to know."

That crease between Spade's eyebrows had returned, and Law bit back that desire to smooth it out. Instead, he felt more motivated to cause that crease to deepen, to frustrate her so completely that it would make breaking her that much sweeter.

"Are you interested, Miss Spade?" he said, voice low.

"What counts as victory?" she asked, gaze fierce and determined.

Law smirked, his blood searing at the sight. "When we hold the other's life in our hands."

* * *

"When we hold the other's life in our hands" was a vague way to establish the rules of victory. Spade had interpreted the condition to simply mean she would have to beat Law to a pulp until he was begging for mercy, and she thought she could do it. She _longed_ for it—imagining Law's smug expression being wiped off his face as she destroyed him in front of his own crew gave her a rush nearly on the same level as imagining Blackbeard dead.

They'd never fought each other before, but Spade's abilities were fairly predictable. Logia types were strong purely by nature of their Fruits; it was the Paramecias who had to be creative with their abilities, and it did not take long for Spade to understand that Law understood his thoroughly. Spade had always relied on her speed and had trained her body to react to any disturbance in her environment, but Law's abilities taught her that she could not take her environment for granted. There was no constancy of matter in his Rooms, only entropy. A branch near her became a ton of rocks that could crush her immediately; a bird behind her transformed into Law himself, swiping his nodachi swiftly toward her to cut her in two. For a man who loved control and order, it was ironic that Law flourished amidst shambles.

Unfortunately for Law, though, Logias did not follow certain laws of nature. Was wind technically matter? Could wind be cut, replaced, removed—in Law's Operating Room, was Spade a subject or a confounder? Marco had been correct; Logias were Law's weakness, simply by the sheer fact that she was not even truly there in his Room, just a current of emptiness that could not be controlled.

All the same, attacking Law was difficult. Any debris that her cyclones showered onto him was replaced with harmless leaves with a mere twitch of his hands. The constant rearrangement of materials in the Room made Spade anxious. Law followed her movements with frightening concentration, and she knew it was only a matter of time before he formulated a plan to neutralize her. She wished she could say the same, but she had always fought poorly on land when there was no seawater to easily dump on her enemies and nullify their abilities. If she wanted to win, she would have to win quickly.

His nodachi had a long range, which made sense because Law hardly seemed like the type to engage in hand-to-hand combat. He operated from afar, always a general with orders and never a foot soldier. The long swipes of his nodachi extended far out to prevent enemies from getting remotely close to him. It was effective against everyone except Logias, who could close such a gap effortlessly. Thus, she attacked relentlessly, forcing Law to constantly dodge her tornadoes and wind crescents, to parry her kicks when she appeared out of nothing to send him flying. Twice she landed a solid blow, once on his chest and another at his left arm; she heard something crack under the weight of her Haki-imbued attacks, followed by an angry hiss of pain. She stepped back, resetting and studying him as Law panted slightly, dark eyes narrowed but otherwise expressionless.

Spade frowned, thinking. Law's right arm, bandaged and stiff, was still hampering him; she could tell when his blade halted abruptly mid-swipe, as if his muscles were seizing in rebellion to their use. If she targeted his dominant hand, Law's source of long-range offense would disappear—he'd no longer be able to cut through the trees behind her like they were made of cheese, and she was certain uprooting them from the ground would cost more energy than moving their dissected pieces. Law had expressed to her before that he was an efficient fighter because the Ope Ope no Mi cost so much mental power—if anyone other than Law had eaten this Fruit, a drawn-out battle would guarantee his downfall. Unfortunately, the Surgeon of Death was too smart for that, and Spade was too wary of his quick adaptations to take the chance of an extended fight.

The metal in her legs whirred. She could end this now. Law was in pain and Spade untouched; this battle was won.

In a flash, she reappeared right behind him, her leg aiming for his sword-arm. Law jerked away instinctively and with one muttered, "Shambles," disappeared from her grasp only to reappear a few feet away, nodachi cutting right where she was. Spade let the attack pass through her, but shuddered as the phantom sensation left a diluted pain. It wasn't the first time she'd let an attack hit her Logia form, but the ache was new.

"What did you do?" she said, gasping for air as the sensation of being cut in half slowly left her bones.

"Doflamingo mentioned that you had poor reserves of Haki," Law stated. "I've been increasing the amount of Haki covering my nodachi gradually through this fight to see what level would force you to solidify."

Law was the only asshole who would remember such a detail when he'd been an inch from the grave at the time. She should've just let him die.

"We're getting about to that level, it seems. You look pale, Miss Spade. Would you like to forfeit before you are bisected?"

Spade responded with an outstretched hand that brought six cyclones down around him. Law shrank his Room to fortify his defenses, and much to Spade's surprise, leapt agilely forward towards her. It was the first time Law had gone on the offensive. Spade gritted her teeth and physically dodged, sensing that the Haki shielding Law's blade was now denser—she could not risk being incapacitated by pain or having her limbs cut off in reality. Law seemed to understand this fear, for he smirked as he forced her back, and she noticed that each slash of his sword was progressively aiming lower.

Understanding dawned on her: he was aiming at her legs.

"You fucking—"

She blasted him with a tornado that Law dodged by teleporting behind her instead. Spade whipped around and flooded her legs with all her Haki, deflecting Kikoku with her right while balancing herself on her left.

"There we go, Miss Spade," Law's voice said in her ear. He was startlingly close, easily in the zone of bareknuckle combat, with Kikoku's positioning nearly vertical so he could swiftly reach toward her chest with his left hand. She felt the Haki in his palm surge, and as it touched her, her body materialized completely.

"Mes."

It was a sensation Spade had never experienced before. Pressure, not pain, and then nothingness, and it was this nothingness that terrified her because she was not supposed to feel nothingness in her chest right now when she should've been feeling her heartbeat skyrocket—

"You seem nervous, judging from your tachycardia," Law said as he stepped away, holding her rapidly beating heart in his hands. She glanced down to find that there was literally an empty space in her chest. "Don't worry. I've done this many times—you're in good hands, literally."

He gave the heart a squeeze and _now_ there was pain, crushing and debilitating even though the organ was not inside her. Spade fell to her knees, struggling for air as the pain intensified and radiated toward her left shoulder—was this how heart attacks felt? How could an organ that wasn't even in her body at the moment cause her this much nausea and agony?

"I believe I've fulfilled the conditions of our deal quite literally, Miss Spade. Because I'm inclined to believe that you will try to kill me the moment you are able to, I will not be returning your heart until you uphold your end of the arrangement and bring me to Marco the Phoenix."

She looked up at him, and his smirk widened at the sight of her hatred.

"I'm a man of my word, Miss Spade. Your heart will returned to you in due time."

"Bullshit," she snarled, getting to her feet shakily. "You told me you wouldn't cut my legs off again and you aimed for them just now."

"I aimed for them, but I never intended to cut them," Law said calmly as he watched her heart beat in his palms. "I assumed you would react like that though. I honestly was near the maximum amount of Haki I could sheathe my blade in, and it wasn't enough to force you to solidify. But I figured the pain you felt was enough to make you overtly cautious of what you fear the most: losing your legs. Predictably, you redirected all your Haki to your lower extremities, leaving your heart—which is much more important, I must say—vulnerable."

She truly, truly hated Trafalgar fucking Law.

* * *

"I'm going to kill him," Spade said as Chopper examined her chest, which was pointless because there was _nothing to examine_. She had no idea how to approach the situation, so she'd asked Chopper to help her because the only other doctor around was Law, and she was not going to go close to that son of a bitch without ripping his fingernails off one by one first.

"I don't know how he does it," the little doctor said as he put away his stethoscope and peered through the literal hole in her torso. "You really have no heartbeat! It's really not there!"

"I fucking know that!" Spade said angrily, causing the poor reindeer to jump away slightly. She sighed and brought a hand to her throbbing forehead. "I'm sorry, Chopper. I'm just… _somehow, I don't have my fucking heart in my body_."

"It's understandable to be upset," Chopper said meekly. "B-but Trafal-guy is honestly a good guy, you know? I'm sure he'll give it back soon if…you…ask…" His voice faded away under Spade's glare.

"Why," she snarled as she put on her shirt again, "does everyone keep saying that Trafalgar is a good, honest guy? Have you _seen_ the asshole? Everything about him is creepy as shit, but everyone in this goddamn crew thinks he's fucking rainbows and sunshine."

"Don't act like you haven't been getting cozy with him," said Robin, amused as she watched Spade get dressed. "I've seen the two of you interact—you're soft around him, and I'd bet money that he's the same way around you."

Spade shot daggers at her so sharp that any stranger would've had the decency to melt into the ground. Instead, Robin smiled innocently.

"Robin," said Spade with saccharine sweetness, "try to at least hide the fact that Trafalgar fucked your brains out of you, will you?"

"Ouch," Robin winced. "That's rude."

"That's the nicest thing you'll be getting from me the rest of the day," she muttered.

After Law had walked away from Spade with her heart in his hand (literally, not metaphorically, even though at this point Spade would've rather had it be metaphorically but of course no one in the universe was ever on her side), the Mink tribe had kindly let them have privacy in a room that Chopper had turned into a clinic of sorts. Law had made it clear that they were to depart from Zou promptly and Spade was to join him.

"Chopper, what can I do?" Spade asked, resigned to the fact that a vital organ was somehow able to beat independent of the rest of her body by some unknown mechanism.

"Truthfully, I'm not sure," the little doctor said, somewhat embarrassed. "The interaction of the human body with Devil's Fruits is already poorly understood, but bring into the picture a Devil Fruit's whose ability is to disassemble the human body…things get complicated very quickly. I believe only Trafal-guy himself knows the limits of these abilities, but I can say confidently that despite the fact you have no heartbeat…everything else is perfectly normal. You shouldn't be physically limited in any way."

"That's something, at least," she said. "Do you know how far away I can be from my heart then? Or how long I can live without it in my chest?"

Chopper shook his head. "I can't answer those questions, sorry. Only Trafal-guy can."

"What shithole did I get myself into…"

"You could've just nicely consented to bringing them to Marco the Phoenix," Robin offered.

"Why do you all not seem to understand that this war is dangerous to Marco?" snapped Spade.

"This war is dangerous to all of us," the historian retorted, her expression settled in uncharacteristic hard lines. "You don't think we're worried? Luffy is just now recovering from Doflamingo's fight and is sailing off now to rescue Sanji from Big Mom. If he gets back safely, he's going to have to face another Yonkou immediately! We need all the help we can get, Spade, and you know it—if the Zou guardians once sailed with Marco, he's going to help them. That was Whitebeard's policy. I don't know why you're being so difficult about this."

They didn't get it. They didn't get anything, they didn't understand that she didn't want Marco to fight because Marco _couldn't_ fight. Because Marco was struck by entire earthquakes randomly that were completely and horrifically debilitating—how could they honestly think she could propose a war that she knew he'd end up saying yes to because he was loyal to his friends, even when he wasn't recovered from Blackbeard? All of them thought he was just the Phoenix who could never be permanently injured, could never be killed, but Blackbeard had proved that first assumption wrong and Spade never wanted to reach a day when that Devil's Fruit ability reached its end and Marco died in front of her, in a war that he didn't need to fight because it wasn't his—

"Ava," Chopper said, voice soothing as he laid a hoof on Spade's shoulder. "Ava, relax."

"You're hyperventilating," Robin said, kneeling in front of her. "Calm down and breathe evenly. I didn't mean to push you this hard—"

"I'm fine," Spade croaked, her breath shallow. God, she was so pathetic. "I'm fine."

Robin looked concerned. "Spade, what is it you're not telling us? I didn't think I said anything unreasonable…"

"You didn't," she muttered. "It's nothing. Don't worry, I'll bring Trafalgar to Marco. Trafalgar has my heart anyway. He'll know if I'm sailing them in circles for too long, and I don't want to test how much pain he'd be willing to put me in."

"He wouldn't do anything like that," Robin said sincerely.

"Robin, he literally _just_ did," she said incredulously. "He just squeezed my heart and I collapsed."

Why was this crew so blinded by Law? Where did this undying trust come from?

But could Spade really criticize them? Despite that Spade called Law creepy constantly, something about the Surgeon of Death made people lower their guards. She herself had slipped up too much around him and now regretted immensely that she'd ever told him anything remotely personal. He was one of likely less than five people alive who knew the history behind Spade's legs, and he had been completely merciless in abusing this knowledge.

She knew better now.

"I know you're angry," Robin said calmly, "but remember that he was willing to die with Luffy, Spade."

"With," Spade hissed, "not for."

"All the same," blinked Robin, "he's good. I promise."

Robin was convinced of this supposed truth, and as Spade looked at Chopper and his innocent believing eyes, it was clear that she would find no allies in this regard from the Strawhats. No matter that she'd literally had her heart ripped out of her chest by Trafalgar Law—the Surgeon of Death was an ally, and Spade was an acquaintance at best.

"I better go," she muttered, standing up and grabbing her bag from the bed. "Thanks for looking at me, Chopper."

"Spade," Robin said, sensing that she was upset.

"Be safe in Wano, you two," she said, not stopping. "See you when I see you."

She left and headed back outside. Law had instructed her to meet his crew at the edge of Zou's forest so they could descend the elephant as a group.

It was her own fault: she'd never treated the Strawhat crew like her own, and she should've expected the same in return. Nonetheless, something in her felt lethally wounded from this realization. Spade felt ill.

"Hey," said someone behind her, but Spade continued walking, ignoring them because she wasn't in the mood—the last thing she needed was another confrontation and another reminder that despite being one of the most well-connected people in the world, she sometimes felt unbearably alone—

"Spade!"

Zoro grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to a halt.

"Did you not hear me?" he said disbelievingly.

"Sorry," she said, "just a little out of it."

Zoro nodded understandingly. "Guess getting your heart pulled out of you would do that."

"Yeah, guess it does."

"You okay?"

She nodded quickly, itching to leave. "Chopper took a look. Not much he could do, but he said I should be fine. Just have to get it back from Trafalgar."

"He'll give it back," said Zoro confidently. Again, there was that ridiculous trust in a man who deserved it the least. "Will we see you in Wano?"

"What?"

"You'll fight Kaidou with us, right?"

"Zoro," said Spade tiredly, "I don't want Marco to go. Hopefully, he won't go so he won't be there—"

"I meant you," he interrupted. "If Marco doesn't go, that's his business. I meant you."

She laughed weakly. "I don't know if I'd be much help, Zoro. Besides—"

"I think you should be there," said Zoro seriously. "I think…I think it'd be good for you."

"How would fighting a Yonkou be _good_ for me?"

"Because it has nothing to do with you," he replied. "Because like you said, it's not a priority of yours. I think you need to stop thinking so much. I dunno what you're doing with the Whitebeards or Blackbeard or Underworld but it's making you…it's fucking you up. You just sit there and think about _everything_ —just watching you makes my head hurt. I know you've never relied on us in the past, but we're past the point of you needing to shield us from things, y'know. I'm pretty sure I kick your ass now, so I don't think I need your protection from shit."

Spade actually laughed this time, and Zoro gave her a crooked smile in return.

"I would be offended," she said, "but I just had my ass handed to me by Trafalgar so my pride's pretty wounded already."

"It's okay," Zoro said, "I kicked his ass earlier this week."

"I better get going, Zoro. Trafalgar's crew is waiting."

"Go ahead. I'll see you in Wano."

"Zoro—"

"See you in Wano," he repeated firmly.

Spade smiled reluctantly. "Sure, see you there."

* * *

"We ready to go?" Law asked Bepo. "I want to head out as soon as we can so we don't get caught up by Kaidou."

"Aye-aye, Captain!"

They were waiting for Spade on the edge of Zou, ready to disembark at a moment's notice. Law had wisely chosen to give Spade time to cool off—the fight, though fair, had been rather ill willed on both sides. His own injuries throbbed; she had cracked two of his ribs and fractured his left humerus. Law had done what he could to minimize the damage but bone injuries were annoyingly slow to heal, and every slight movement reminded him that had the terrain suited Spade's style more, he would've come out worse for wear.

He had not thought to target her legs until he'd noticed her aiming for his injured arm. Two could play at the game of hitting where it hurt the most, and Law had emerged victorious. Still, the choice had left a somewhat bitter taste in his mouth, though he was not about to indicate otherwise. A win was a win, no matter the circumstances, and as a result, he had accomplished getting Spade on his ship without exerting much effort. She could resist all she wanted, but with her heart in his possession, there was not much she could do.

"Man, how'd we get targeted by a Yonkou anyway," whimpered Penguin as he examined several maps in his hand. "And now we have to go all the way back toward Raijin Island? All the progress we had getting through the New World and now we have to just sail right back to the beginning…"

"Penguin, do you have anything actually productive to contribute or are you just whining?" said Law dryly.

"It's nice to have you back too, Cap'n," the cartographer sighed.

"We're ready to go," Shachi announced proudly from the Den-Den Mushi in Penguin's hand. "Polar Tang has been cleaned inside and out, stocked with food and medical supplies, and is ready to go!"

"Good work," Law said. "Any last minute items you want us to bring?"

"More food never hurt anyone! Otherwise, we're set."

"Good," the captain said again as he checked the time. "Where's Miss Spade?"

"Here," said Spade wearily, emerging from the Zou forest with a large backpack strapped on her shoulders.

Penguin eagerly scrambled forward to introduce himself. Law heaved a sigh; Penguin and Black Leg Sanji of the Strawhats were equivalents in many regards.

"Hello," Penguin said politely, "I'm Penguin, the cartographer. It's great to have you onboard the Polar Tang, Miss Spade."

"Spade is fine," she said. "It's good to meet you."

"I'm Bepo, I'm the Navigator!" the polar bear declared.

"Ah, yes." Spade looked at him curiously. "I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier and calling you a stuffed animal. It's nice to meet you."

"It's okay! Nice to meet you too, Miss Spade."

"Please, Spade is fine."

That was strange. She had never instructed Law to call her without an honorific. In fact, Law was rather surprised that Spade could be relatively pleasant at first introduction, especially to his crew.

"I hope those are only essentials," Law said, eying her backpack suspiciously. "The sub is unlike the Thousand Sunny or the ship we came here on—space is not a luxury we can afford to have."

"Shit," said Spade, brow furrowed, "I forgot we'd be in a sub."

"Do you need to unpack?" Law said, deadpan.

"No, these are essential," she said coldly. "I just don't like submarines."

"Ours is much more spacious than most!" said Penguin encouragingly. "We will make sure you're comfortable."

"Plus, you don't strike me as the type to complain about amenities," noted Law.

"I actually really like five-star hotels," she said in a tone that suggested she was disagreeing just because she wanted to. "But that's not the point. I'm not going to do well on a sub if we're underwater all the time. How often will we resurface?"

"Every couple days," Bepo responded. "Captain says that we'll dive first for a while because we're trying not to get tracked, and then we'll be okay to surface after that."

"I see," Spade said.

Her tone sounded strained enough that Law decided to pursue it.

"Is there something wrong, Miss Spade?"

"No," she said thinly. "I'm a wind-user; I just like being able to feel it."

So that was it. He should've guessed it himself, especially with how much time Spade spent on the crow's nest this past week. It was a relatively minor complaint, something that he did not feel obligated to accommodate.

"It won't be for long," he said. "I assume you've said all your goodbyes. We will head out now. You said the Whitebeards are located near Raijin Island, correct?"

"Once we get close, I'll be able to navigate us. You can't find the base with a Log Pose."

"A good trait for a hideout to have. Be forewarned, Miss Spade, I spent a decent amount of time on Punk Hazard. I know how to find a Logless Island. I'll know if you're stringing us along."

Spade's eyes narrowed, and in her gaze Law saw a heated loathing that he had not noticed before. He was used to Spade's hot-blooded nature and her wariness, but this was different. Something had changed between them, and it made Law uneasy.

"Oh, don't worry, I know," she said coolly. "You have my heart. I'll meet you guys on the ship."

"Oh, Samurai Kanjuro drew us this awesome dragon that we can use to descend," Bepo said excitedly.

"I'm good."

"Sorry," the polar bear said, head bowed.

Spade looked humored by his response. "It's faster if I descend by myself since I can fly."

"Then transport me with you. I'd prefer to avoid the shoddy dragon, if I could," Law said, placing a hand on Spade's shoulder.

Spade immediately grew rigid and drew away.

"Then make a Room and transport yourself," she said brusquely, shouldering her backpack and approaching the edge of the precipice. "See y'all down there."

She jumped and disappeared from sight with a flurry of warm winds. Both Bepo and Penguin turned to him nervously; they knew he hated being disobeyed.

And it was true, her complete disregard for his order was irritating, but that wasn't what bothered Law the most. He'd found it a slight point of pride that under all that prickly personality, Spade was comparatively comfortable with him. Only the day before, she'd practically cried in front of him, and he was certain that was nothing something she showed easily.

But just now, she'd stiffened to his touch, and nothing about their last interaction suggested that she felt anything but complete distrust for him. That wariness had become lethal, and knowing this, Law could not help but begin to feel the same.

They were being led to an unknown base by a woman who now hated him, one who possibly would try to murder him if she had the chance.

It was very likely this trip would turn out poorly.

* * *

The Polar Tang was a state-of-the-art vessel, one that had been outfitted and vetted thoroughly by some of the best submarine-makers in the Grand Line and double-checked by Law himself, who was so meticulous that his own stamp of approval meant more than most professionals'. It was reasonable for him to be so careful about his vessel; as a Devil's Fruit user, it was ironic that he spent so much time underwater. If the slightest bit of saltwater infiltrated the submarine, Law was very effectively screwed.

After Spade met the rest of his crew briefly, Law allowed Bepo to give Spade a quick overview of the boat that he was so proud of: here is the mess, between the control room and the quarters. The engine rooms are between the control room and the torpedo room at the stern of the vessel, please don't barge into them because it's important that whoever is navigating at the time is concentrating, and below those rooms are the fuel oil rooms and needless to say please don't bring fire near those rooms. On the bow end, we have the captain's quarters and office, further along we have our operating rooms and these are our captain's spaces too so please don't wander into them without permission because he likes to keep things as sterile as possible so that in the event of emergency, we don't have to waste time prepping the room. The baths are across from the crew's quarters, and you're welcome to sleep with us or if you're uncomfortable we have a teeny supply closet that we can clear out for you to sleep in but we're all friendly so please don't feel like you need to avoid us.

Spade listened intently and asked appropriate questions here and there: is there a place I can smoke ("We prefer if you don't but sometimes the captain smokes in his room and if you ask everyone I'm sure they're okay if you smoke in the mess when it's empty"), is there anything else I should watch out for ("Just the captain when he's in a mood!") and do you _really_ have torpedoes?

"Torpedoes are important for submarines!" said Bepo enthusiastically. "Normally other ships have their bases covered by Kairouseki so they repel sea kings. We're covered in Kairouseki too, but since we're in their territory, it's important for us to be able to defend ourselves."

Spade's eyes glittered. "I'd love to be able to fire one."

"It's really fun! I'll be sure to get you next time we need to!"

"No, Bepo," said Law wryly, "no one gets to fire torpedoes just because they want to. They're expensive."

"I'll direct her if we see a sea king!"

"We'll discuss it in time," the captain said sternly. "Tell the others to go ahead and submerge—we've wasted too much time already."

"Aye-aye, captain!"

The polar bear bounded off to the control room where Penguin and Shachi were, likely already winding up the navigation system. Spade looked at Law, all airs of affability disappearing once the Mink navigator was out of sight.

"So where do you keep the hearts of your prisoners, Trafalgar?"

"Prisoner?" he said lightly. "You're a guest, Miss Spade, and a guide."

"An unwilling guest is the same thing as a prisoner," she said coolly.

"If you feel that way, I'd be happy to cuff you in Kairouseki and treat you accordingly," he returned. "Your heart is safe and I have no intention of using it against you; it's merely leverage for me. Please, make yourself comfortable."

"I have a gaping hole in my chest, Trafalgar. That's about as uncomfortable as it gets."

"On the contrary, you really should be feeling normal," he said with a shrug. "I could do that operation in my sleep. As a gesture of good will, I'll show you where I keep your heart. If you'll follow me."

Spade grimaced but obliged, falling in step next to him as he headed down the long stretch of the narrow hallway toward the operating rooms.

"Your crew is not what I expected," she remarked.

"I told you before, subtlety is not their strong suit."

"With a talking polar bear for a navigator, I can imagine," she said. "They're much more chipper than you are, as a whole. I expected your ship to be as droll as a cemetery."

"Rude, but understandable. I do not like noise, but I've been told by my men on several occasions that a balance between fun and business is important."

"And you listen to your men?"

"Of course. This crew would die for me, Miss Spade, and I for them. It's how a crew works. I'm starting to realize that you don't understand the concept, which is strange considering you've been a pirate for so long."

"What are you implying?"

"That you're terrible at camaraderie and following orders," he said bluntly. "As long as you're on this vessel, Miss Spade, it'd be wise for you to follow my instructions. Shit can hit the fan very quickly underwater, and being Fruit users, you and I are both at the highest risk. I don't want to have to worry about you disobeying me in a time of crisis."

"Disobeying you," she echoed. "You told me before you don't take orders from others, but you really have a stick up your ass if others do that to you, don't you?"

"It's why I'm the captain, Miss Spade."

"You're not mine."

"True, but I imagine no one ever has been. Heart or no heart in my possession, Miss Spade, I intend to rectify that."

He pushed open the doors to the operating room and she followed him in. Along the sides of the room were glass-heated cabinets that held a wide selection of still-beating hearts in place, submerged in fluid with the same synthetic makeup as blood held at body temperature. They were all unlabeled, but Law could identify each one by memory. Spade's was tucked away on the highest level, surrounded by hearts from pirates of various crews. It was easy for Law to convince weak crewmembers to become his informants when all it took was a slight squeeze of the muscle.

"You're really something," she said, disgust apparent in her voice as she surveyed the cabinets. "Looks like Doflamingo taught you well."

The accusation was completely unexpected, but the insult hit a nerve that Law wasn't even sure Spade knew was particularly sensitive.

"What do you mean by that?"

He was not Doflamingo—he had done everything he could in the last decade to unlearn the cruelties that man had imprinted onto him. Doflamingo was a sadistic, narcissistic piece of refuse who held absolutely everyone and everything in complete disregard. He was antisocial personality disorder's picture perfect case report. Law was different; Corazon had ensured that. He'd died to ensure it.

"Manipulation takes different forms, but it's all the same in the end," Spade said calmly, her green eyes scanning the rows and rows of hearts, trying to find her own. "Doflamingo has his threads, you have your hearts. Your crew's name is less cute, now that I've seen this."

"I am nothing like that man," Law said harshly.

"Maybe you think you aren't because you're surrounded by kind, lovely crewmembers who are loyal to you," she answered. "But the fact that you went to Punk Hazard alone shows that you yourself know you don't deserve their trust and adoration. Anyone can make weaker others believe in them, Trafalgar Law. Didn't Doflamingo's massive family teach you that?"

She was goading him. She wanted to see him reach for her heart, squeeze it so she would know which one was hers. If only she knew just how frighteningly close she was to the truth; his insecurities were just another manifestation of his bad habit of constantly being in his own head.

"There are other ways for me to torture you than to use your heart, Miss Spade," Law said, voice deadly.

"I'm sure there are," she said, turning to leave. "I really should've just let Doflamingo kill you back then. I made too many mistakes with you, Trafalgar Law. In the end, it turns out my first impression of you was correct. Trusting you in any capacity was a poor choice. Consider your lesson well-taught and well-learned."

She glanced back at him, eyes like ice.

"The moment I get my heart back, I will rip yours out of your chest so quickly you won't even have a chance to beg for your life."

The door of the operating room closed behind her. Law's injuries ached, but nothing bothered him more than the hot acid that had bubbled from his stomach to his throat. She'd just been goading him, trying to get a rise out of him, one that he was glad not to have shown.

Still, he made a Room and collected Spade's heart in his palm. She had touched on one of Law's greatest fears—Doflamingo played a huge role in his formative years, regardless of whether or not Law wanted to recognize it. Though Corazon had transformed Law, Doflamingo had shaped him originally. Even now, Law found himself repeating Doflamingo's mantra unconsciously and often: the weak do not get to choose the circumstances of their death, so never be weak.

Spade's honest declaration confirmed what he already had guessed after their battle, that he was not to be trusted and was not worth being saved.

He squeezed the heart in his hand, just to teach her a lesson.


	8. Wax and Wane

**Chapter 8: Wax and Wane**

The Heart Pirates was a motley crew, which was ironic because they all dressed in the same drab boiler suits that Spade found absolutely hideous. They consisted of twenty members, excluding Law himself, all men except for one female and one polar bear. They came from all over, with the majority from North Blue where Law was also from, but Bepo was from Zou and Jean Bart was born in the Grand Line, while a smattering of others had joined from the remaining three seas.

Spade found the Heart Pirates to be a strange group of people, and the fact that they rallied behind Trafalgar Law was even stranger. They were goofy, friendly, and welcoming. On her initial days on the Polar Tang, she half-expected a switch to be turned on at night when the normally lackadaisical crew would become murderous anatomists, eager to pick a body apart to store their preferred parts away in their own respective laboratories.

Nothing of the sort happened, of course. Spade chose to sleep in the small supply closet and whatever menial arrangements could be made for her living areas were promptly brought. The bed was small but soft, with Bepo providing a fur blanket of which Spade decided not to ask its origins, and the crew promised that yes, this room was private and she should feel free to leave her belongings there because no one would be allowed to enter. To prove this point, Shachi, one of the medical assistants and also the cook onboard, gave her the key to the closet and assured her that there was only one copy.

It was very bewildering. The atmosphere was open, trusting, and simply warm in a way that reminded her of the Strawhats. But Luffy and Law were two entirely different people—how they both managed to attract such genuinely loyal individuals was beyond her. Was there something about Law that she was missing?

Spade did not even allow herself to consider it. The empty square in her chest served as a constant reminder that Law was a manipulative psychopath who had stripped her of all defenses and was forcing her to bring him to the Whitebeard base. Unluckily for him, Spade had every intention of making this trip as difficult as she could manage. The Logless island was located near Raijin Island, true, but there were faster methods of getting to it that she could've provided if she were generous. Once they approached Raijin, Spade intended to sail them in long circles, with the path circumventing enough that Law shouldn't be able to tell, until she found a method to steal her heart back, drown Law, and fly home. Wherever home was.

All this vindictive planning still did not change the fact that Spade reluctantly enjoyed the company of the Hearts Pirates. She would've even enjoyed sailing with them, so easy it was to interact with them, were it not for the fact that she loathed their captain and also loathed their submarine.

They spent several days underwater at a depth that was not terrible. The pressure from the ocean was comparable to perhaps Level Two or Three of Impel Down, enough to cause Spade's body to ache constantly but not enough to drive her insane. She had truthfully never been in a submarine before, and her experience at Impel Down had birthed the theory that she would not perform well in one. The oppressive weight of the deep sea was hard to forget, and Spade had good reason to believe that at a certain depth, she would be completely incapacitated.

She simply hoped that it would not come to that. Her limited memory of Impel Down—either a direct result of her torture or her own unwillingness to remember anything from that time—led to her to guess that the real problems would present at four thousand meters below sea level. The Polar Tang was currently cruising at approximately three thousand meters, and Bepo had said that it was uncommon for them to delve much deeper.

The journey thus far had been thankfully uneventful. Spade avoided Law as much as possible and after their last conversation, she was not surprised to see that he was cautious with her, too. She had hit a sensitive wound when she saw the aquariums of hearts, as evidenced by the episode of excruciating chest pain that had seized her after she'd left him. Besides that one sign of anger, Law remained civil but distant with her. Now that he was back on his own ship, he had his reputation as captain to maintain. There was no benefit to him paying her special attention, especially when the rest of his crew knew that she was an unwilling participant of their party.

It was therefore unexpected when five days since their departure from Zou, there was a knock on her closet door, interrupting her studies of the Indigo Ring.

"Miss Spade?" said Law's voice from outside.

She grimaced. Could she pretend to be asleep? But it was the middle of the morning and Law had seen her drink her customary three cups of coffee. Feigning a nap seemed unbelievable. Besides, Law had not sought her out recently; perhaps it was something important.

Spade opened the door, revealing Law with a stack of papers in his hand. He was in a black T-shirt with his Jolly Roger printed in yellow on the front and jeans, more casual attire than he normally was in. He wasn't wearing his snow leopard cap, which was also uncommon, but made sense because the submarine could get unbearably stuffy after prolonged periods of submersion. Bepo had told her earlier that they could expect to surface later this afternoon.

"Can I help you?" she said, tone and body language uninviting.

"I have some things that may be of interest to you," he said, tone polite. "Namely, some of the research I've done on Indigo Rings. Thought I'd share."

Spade frowned. "Why?"

Law arched an eyebrow. "I thought you'd like to hear it."

"What do you want from me in return?"

Law paused before replying. "Nothing."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Miss Spade," Law said, walking past her into her room without her permission, "I realize that you have reasons to be belligerent but please understand that I am not your enemy. I told you before, an alliance between the two of us could be mutually beneficial."

"An alliance requires trust," she spat, turning around to find him seat himself easily on the edge of her unmade bed, "of which I have absolutely none for you. There's no mutual benefit to knowing you, Trafalgar. Ever since I've known you, only you have gained from this relationship."

"I recognize that," he said calmly, "which is why I'm trying to even the tables."

"Out of the goodness of your heart?" she said scathingly.

"Indeed," he answered, unperturbed.

She watched him suspiciously as he flipped through the pages silently. She would eat her own shoe before believing that Law would ever give her anything out of the goodness of his black heart, especially when so many of their interactions had been transactions.

 _Except when he treated your shoulder,_ a voice nagged in her head _, for free, even_.

But that was his role as a doctor, nothing more, nothing less. She was appreciative of it, but Law also had ripped her heart out, so there was that going against his doctor role too. Spade did not understand—Law had no reason to be nice other than for the sake of being nice.

It clicked.

"Being likened to Doflamingo really bothers you, doesn't it," she said.

Law's gray eyes flickered. "What makes you say that?"

"You aren't the type to let things bother you," she said, closing her door and sitting down on the floor against it. "Sticks and stones can break my bones, words can't do shit, until they can. Any mention of Doflamingo really sets you off. But you have nothing to prove by being nice to me, Trafalgar. It won't change a thing."

"I'm not trying to prove anything."

"Then tell me what you want," she said evenly. "I refuse to believe that you can just be nice because you want to be. And if validation from me will make you feel better that you're not just like that fucked up mentor of yours, then you're looking in the wrong place."

"You barely even know Doflamingo," Law said, composure finally cracking. "You make the analogy seem benign without recognizing the extent to which—"

"I know very well that Doflamingo is a piece of shit," she said, blood rushing with the knowledge that for once, she was calm and Law was agitated. "I've read the reports. I've met the slaves he's traded. I know enough people in the Underworld who've been disposed of by the Donquixote family—believe me when I say that you are no different from him."

"You have no idea," Law said through gritted teeth, "what Doflamingo is like until you've lived with him, suffered his teachings, and watched him kill genuinely honorable and good people. He and I are not comparable."

"Fine," she said. She leaned her head back against the cool steel of her door. "You're not like him. There, does that make you feel better? Does that make all the hearts in your laboratory suddenly disappear? Does that change the nature of what you're doing, forcing people to abide by your will because you can't stand being disobeyed, because everything has to be controlled by you? Tell me exactly _how are you different, Trafalgar?_ "

"I don't do it for fun!" he snapped, and it was truly something else to see Law actually angry. His normally impassive face lit up with fury, but there was fear in there too, and a struggle for justification. "There is no pleasure I derive from watching people squirm, making innocent people dance for my amusement. I am a pirate, Miss Spade, I can wound and maim and kill but it is not for my enjoyment. I am a man with a goal and people I need to protect. If threatening others whom I don't hold in high regard means I can accomplish those goals, protect the things I care for, then so be it. But it is not the same as Doflamingo. I refuse to be that man."

Silence lingered after Law's outburst. He seemed stunned with his own heated indignation, as if these were sentiments he had long bottled up inside of him and had only needed the proper trigger to explode. Law, the Surgeon of Death, the master of control. If only people knew how fragile that glass bottle with all those torrential fears and emotions inside of him was.

"If you believe that, why do you need to prove that to me?" Spade asked, unimpressed. "I'm one of those people you don't hold in high regard, mm? You have my heart, after all. Shouldn't matter what I believe."

Law's expression clouded; perhaps he didn't know the answer himself.

"Convincing Marco to join us will be more difficult if you're not on my side," Law said after some thought.

"Oh, that's completely unrelated," she said, getting to her feet and walking the two steps it took to get to her bed. "You could be Luffy and I still wouldn't help you convince him. I don't want Marco there; it's got nothing to do with how I feel about you."

"Then my offer to help you shouldn't matter."

"It doesn't," she said. "I just want to make it clear. You aren't being kind, Trafalgar. You want something from me: you want my forgiveness and my trust and I'm telling you, as long as you hold my heart in your possession, you'll never get it."

"Fine," he said, standing up, papers still in hand. "Do not forget this act of kindness that you rejected, Miss Spade. There will be a day when you wish you acted differently."

"You can't manipulate me with something so small," she answered. "I am not someone you can bend and break until you are happy with the results."

Law opened the door. "I can make anyone bend and break, Miss Spade. Believe me, there will be a day when I will have the pleasure of breaking you."

The door shut behind him, leaving only the echo of his threat lingering.

* * *

Law could tell his crew was still on their best behavior with Spade around, especially because they thought that she was a pleasant addition to the group that was unfortunately being held against her will. Of course, no one was willing to voice aloud their pity for her predicament, so they compensated by being overly nice and accommodating. It was something that amused Law but also something he found unnecessary. Spade's reciprocal friendliness to his crew was also a sham, one that Law felt no need to encourage.

He had no intention of including her in the family of "kind, lovely crewmembers" that surrounded him. So what if Spade did not understand why his crewmembers loved him—she was so unwilling to yield even an inch when it came to viewing him as some monster equivalent to Doflamingo, it was no surprise that she couldn't see where Law was kind.

He knew that Spade was right, that the comparison bothered him deeply and he felt the need to prove himself, which was a feeling that he'd never had before. Even when it came to pissing contests with other Supernova or even his public bounty from the Marines, Law was never the type to care what others thought. Let people underestimate him; he would prove them wrong with undue patience.

But this was different. Spade was not underestimating him. She knew exactly what he was capable of and recognized his strength; if anything, the parallel she drew exaggerated anything that Law represented. He knew the rumors, that he was the cruel surgeon who could butcher his patients as easily as he could save them, but rumors were always grandiose and insubstantial. The whispers of some commoner believing his sadism hardly perturbed him, but the firm belief of someone who had saved his life was a different story. He wondered if she had been telling the truth—that if she could go back in time, she would've let Doflamingo kill him instead.

For a man who hated feelings, Law had always been ironically good at self-reflection, and he knew that Spade was grating him in a peculiar way. The sexual attraction he had for her had not diminished; if anything, it only heightened with her insolence, and every fantasy that played in his head involved a power play that he was afraid to psychoanalyze. Doflamingo had always gotten off on controlling and breaking others, and Law was not foolish enough to deny his own similarities.

But Law had control. He had morals, he knew right from wrong and he also _cared_ , and all these things were the factors that had him jerking himself off at night with only the imagination of hate-fucking Spade into submission. Worse than the recognition of his own debasing qualities was entering the mess every morning to see her interacting with the rest of his crew, completely normal and wholly oblivious.

He started studying again, designing experiments and testing drugs, all to keep himself occupied until they arrived at the Whitebeard base. Having reviewed his old notes from his Indigo Ring research, Law found himself once again fascinated with the properties of the rare strain. There was a reason he'd been interested in the first place: Law had always been intrigued by pain as an evolutionary mechanism of conditioning, but humans, especially combatants, saw pain as a weakness to be overcome, especially in immediate battle. Centuries ago, some botanists had suggested the crushed bulbs of Indigo Rings had special analgesic properties, with a swifter onset and a longer half-life than many pain medications used at the time. However, the special strain of Indigo Ring was notoriously difficult to grow by human means and required certain rare bees for cross-pollination that were located in the remote mountains of Baterilla. With the advent of other common and cheaper analgesics such as acetaminophen or ibuprofen, the worth of Indigo Ring Pain Strain (PS) diminished.

Law pored over various textbooks in his library, jotting down notes in the margins occasionally that reflected his thought process or future hypotheses. He had been so absorbed with his work that he'd forgotten to eat breakfast and was only reminded of the hour when there was a knock on his door.

"Captain," said Ikkaku's voice, "can I come in?"

"Sure."

Ikkaku entered, her large bushy brown hair as tamed as she could manage under a bright orange headband. The female Hearts Pirate member looked at the disaster on his desk with a warranted arched eyebrow, given that his workspace was normally immaculate.

"Some light reading, Captain?"

"Got carried away," he said, shutting his journals and giving her his full attention. "Something wrong?"

"Not sure," she said. "Like you ordered after we surfaced yesterday, we dove to deep sea territory last night to try and avoid some of the higher currents that keep delaying us."

"Yes, it seems we've been able to progress at a faster pace."

"Yeah, I agree. It's just…" Ikkaku scratched her chin, looking thoughtful.

"Spit it out, Ikkaku."

"When Spade heard we were diving deep last night, she got kinda weird. She usually wakes up pretty early and helps out with breakfast and stuff, but it's almost fifteen o'clock now and we haven't seen her all day. Won't open her door either."

Law frowned. "Is she ill? Has she said anything?"

"Nope, completely silent."

Law stood up and headed down the hallway, stopping in front of the door of Spade's closet room. Ikkaku followed closely behind, curious. Law knocked on the door twice.

"Miss Spade?" he called.

There was no answer.

"Spade!" Ikkaku said, banging more vehemently on the door. "Open up! Are you dead? We're gonna bust down the door if you don't answer!" Ikkaku turned to her captain. "Can we do that?"

"I can remove the lock with my ability," Law clarified. "Answer or we'll come in, Miss Spade."

"I'm fine," Spade's muffled voice came from inside. She sounded forced and the furthest thing from fine.

"Are you sick?" Law asked.

"No," was the strained reply. "I'm…fine."

"You don't sound fine," Ikkaku said. "Are you having cramps? I have meds to help with that, you know! You don't have to just suffer in silence!"

"No," Spade's answer came after a slight delay. "I'm fine."

"Miss Spade, I'm coming in," Law said, Room created. "Shambles."

The lock of the door fell to the ground and he pushed the door open. Spade was on her bed, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Her face was buried in her pillow and she was positively writhing in what was clearly agony. Every muscle visible was contracted in tetany; she looked like she could snap apart under the slightest additional stress.

"Spade!" Ikkaku said, making a movement to rush in.

Law held her back. "Get me a drug kit from the O.R. Tell Shachi to get here with water, iced and boiled, and clean dressings. I need an IV line set up and we're going to draw blood for culture."

"Aye-aye, sir."

Ikkaku sped off immediately, leaving Law to enter the room alone. Spade did not look up from her pillow, but her grip in her sheets seemed to tighten even more as he approached.

"Miss Spade, what's going on?" He pushed her lightly on the shoulder and she nearly convulsed, all control of her body snapping. It allowed Law to reorient her on her back.

"What's the point," she gasped, droplets of likely tears and sweat streaming down her face, "of having…a locked door…when you can just…fucking Shambles your way in?"

"I'm glad you have enough energy to complain," he murmured, taking her pulse only to remember that she didn't have one because her heart was located in the lab. Nonetheless, Spade's body was scorching; her breathing was rapid and shallow and she had difficulty completing sentences. She was hyperventilating.

Carefully, Law created a Room that captured only Spade's head, isolating the Room from the rest of its surroundings. It served the same purpose as a paper bag, allowing her to rebreathe carbon dioxide and decrease her respiratory drive. As Spade's breathing rate slowed minimally, Law resumed asking questions.

"What are you feeling?" he said.

"Nothing," she grunted, bringing a hand up over her eyes.

"Miss Spade, do not test me right now," he said as took her other hand in his to examine for capillary refill. "I'm a doctor, you're a patient. I'm trying to help you."

"I just need pain meds," she said, her grip on his fingers tightening so much that her nails dug into his skin.

"They're on their way," he answered. "Where's the pain?"

"Everywhere."

"When did it start?"

"…Last night."

"You've been like this since last night? What happened?"

Spade ground her teeth together, as if she was resisting biting her tongue. Law felt a wave of annoyance—did she trust him so little that she felt the need to hide why she was in debilitating pain? What did she think he was going to do with that information other than try and cure it? Spade did not understand the medical implications of constant muscle spasms—the contractions could lead to kidney failure.

"Don't make me waste time by guessing, Miss Spade," he said, voice warning.

"Hah, you're a smart…guy," she breathed. "I'm sure you'll…figure it out."

"I am trying to help you. Tell me what's going on."

"Just give me pain meds," she said all in one exhale. "Then, let me sleep."

"I need more information if we're going to identify a source for your pain," he said, his patience stretching thin. "I can give you morphine but it will only last for a short period of time. You need to let me help you."

Spade's lips curled into a twisted smile. "Why? I thought you wanted me broken."

Law gripped her firmly by the chin and turned her towards him.

"Believe me, I have very different plans to break you," he said quietly. "They require you to be in your full capacities, so that when it happens, the only one that can take credit for the job is me."

Law released her as Ikkaku skidded to a stop at the room's entrance and hurried to his side, followed by Shachi with additional supplies. Bepo hovered in the hallway, too large to actually fit in the supply closet.

"Morphine immediately," Law ordered. "Keep a benzo on hold too, in case she'll need it."

"Got it," Ikkaku said, wiping down Spade's upper arm with an alcohol swab and injecting the morphine in her left bicep.

"Shachi, get blood cultures and start prophylactic IV antibiotics. She's febrile and probably tachycardic, it's a fast presentation for sepsis but we can't ever be sure—"

"Save your antibiotics," Spade panted. "It's not an infection."

"How would we know?" said Law serenely. "You won't tell us any history."

"It's just the depth," she said through gritted teeth.

"The depth?"

"The submarine!" Bepo said loudly from the hallway. "We're almost five thousand below right now!"

"Why would that cause this?" Shachi said, bewildered. "It's not like the bends in reverse, is it?"

"I don't know, but permission to surface, Captain?"

"Yeah, do it slowly," Law said as he watched Shachi insert a needle into Spade's vein. Bepo left immediately to transmit the message to the control room. "Go ahead and draw cultures anyway, Shachi. We'll hold off on antibiotics until we're at the surface, but start a saline drip—she hasn't eaten anything since last night. Miss Spade, we're going to need your urine for culture too."

"Fantastic," she said dryly, some color returning to her face as the morphine started to kick in.

"You feeling okay now?" Ikkaku asked, peering at Spade closely. "You looked like shit for a second there."

"I feel like shit," Spade admitted with a wan smile. "Thanks for the drugs, though."

"Did you know this was gonna happen?" said Shachi, worried. "Have you ever been in a sub before?"

"No," she said.

"It's so weird," Ikkaku said. "You told me you've been to Fishman Island before. Did this happen then?"

"No," Spade said with a shake of her head. "I went a couple years ago, back when I was with Ace of Spades. Nothing happened then."

"Well, we're deeper than Fishman Island, but still, figured you'd present then," Ikkaku said, puzzled. "What happened in between?"

"Impel Down," Law said so suddenly that the sound of his own voice surprised him.

The three of them looked up at him, his crewmembers confused, Spade half-irritated, half-smug.

"Told you you were a smart guy," she said wryly.

Law mentally cursed himself—he should've guessed when she'd been so hesitant upon hearing that she was going to be on a submarine. The excuse for preferring fresh air was so clearly a red herring in retrospect. Law did not know whom he was more furious with: Spade for hiding it, or himself for falling for her diversion.

"Both of you, leave us," Law ordered, tone burning.

"Captain?" Ikkaku said, perplexed.

"Now."

His crewmembers left immediately and shut the door behind them, closing out their whispering mutters. With them left Spade's minimal congeniality, and she did not hide her grimace as she sat up to face him properly.

"You knew this was going to happen," Law stated.

"I didn't know," she said shortly. "It was a hunch."

"Why didn't you tell me? This was an easily avoidable problem."

"Because I didn't _know_ it was going to happen," she snapped. "I wasn't going to tell you something like this when I wasn't even sure it existed. It wasn't worth it."

"Miss Spade," he returned in the same tone, "we could've remained at an adequate elevation, or you could've received morphine ages ago. You just suffered through over twelve hours of excruciating pain that could've easily been fixed—what did you have to lose by telling me?"

"You tell me!" she said angrily. "What would you have done if I'd told you?"

"We wouldn't have dove this deep!" he retorted. "I would've watched out for signs, I would've given you a muscle relaxant or made sure you had some analgesics if we needed to dive lower—I'm a fucking doctor, Miss Spade, not a mind-reader. You need to give me information if I'm going to help you!"

"How do I even know if you're going to help me?!" she shouted, for the first time showing any real signs of loss of control. She stood up shakily so they could be closer to eye-level, her face now flushed with anger. "Everything I've shared with you, you've used against me. You used what I told you about Blackbeard to goad me into fighting you, you used what I told you about my legs to rip my heart out! I can count on one hand the number of people who know about my legs, and for some godforsaken reason that number includes you—for fuck's sake, I didn't even tell Ace about them until we were both almost dead in Impel Down! The only thing you have proven to me is that you will take anything I tell you and use it to manipulate me—why would I tell you about a weakness that I didn't even know for certain was going to happen? What if I pissed you off and you decided to dive a billion fucking meters below the surface just to prove a point? I'd rather die, screaming in agony but knowing that I caused it myself, than to know you have that kind of power over me."

But he wouldn't have done it. Law didn't know what else to say, how else to convince her. He wasn't that kind of person, he knew what wounds were worth targeting and which ones were just too low to aim for, if she'd told him about Impel Down and her fears of suffering through whatever torture she'd experienced again, he wouldn't have abused that knowledge—

Or was he kidding himself? Hadn't he already done that? Just because he'd never intended to cut Spade's legs off didn't mean that he hadn't at least threatened it. And she was right, look what it'd gotten him. Her heart. Her presence on his boat. Her guidance to Marco the Phoenix, worth one billion beli.

An icy grip found its way around his insides.

He truly was the same as Doflamingo.

Spade was panting harshly, winded by her outburst. She was shaking somewhat violently, as if her legs were having difficulty supporting her. She looked tired, weak, and easily overpowered.

Law wanted to do it. He wanted to climb over her, kiss her, catch her lips in his teeth, mark the junction of her neck and shoulder. Wanted to tear off her clothes and flip her over on her front so that he could see the tattoo on her back that held the name of the man she loved, wanted to bite down on those letters as he spread her legs and fucked her hard, like he was a dog mating his bitch, because if that was all Spade saw him as, an animal, a _monster_ , then what else could he do? It wasn't even her, it was _him_ —if he was trying this hard to mask all these urges and these thoughts behind careful smirks and _still_ he was this much of an apparent manipulative sociopath, what was the point of even trying?

"I'll have Ikkaku come by with some food and a sedative to help you sleep," Law heard himself say in that detached doctor's voice he had long perfected. "We'll go ahead and culture your blood, just in case. I'm going to run some routine blood work as well. If that pain returns, let someone onboard know so we can manage it."

Spade looked stunned that he wasn't fighting back, but she should have known better. Law did not believe in prolonged arguments that served no purpose. Every muscle in his body suddenly felt like it was made of lead. He was exhausted despite having exerted no efforts today.

He turned and headed for the exit. She made no effort to stop him.

No matter that she had saved his life. Law truly regretted having ever met Skye Spade.

* * *

Spade woke up completely disoriented and feeling like she'd run a marathon after being pelted by bricks. Her entire body ached as she sat up on her tiny little mattress. She felt nauseous and hungry at the same time.

There was no way to know the time, but she assumed it was late. The submarine, which was normally bustling with so much noise that she had difficulty falling asleep, was quiet. Even the engines, constantly revving, were silent. Despite feeling like she had the world's worst hangover while being extremely sore, Spade was relieved to find that she was not in any acute pain. The spasms she'd suffered hours through were gone, and that immense pressure of the deep ocean had disappeared. They must've surfaced.

Spade stood up and headed out of her room down the dimly lit narrow hallway, toward the mess. Perhaps she'd find something to eat. There was bound to be some bread left, given the Heart Captain's peculiar aversion to it, but beggars couldn't be choosers. She'd be happy to have anything at this point.

She pushed open the door to the mess, expecting to find it empty, but instead found Bepo talking with his captain. The polar bear turned to her, smiling broadly.

"Spade! You're up!"

"Yeah," she said with a quick smile. "Sorry for worrying you earlier. How long was I out?"

"It's been almost eleven hours now. It's two o'clock right now. You're gonna be nocturnal!"

"I suppose that's all right," she sighed. "It's easiest to be productive at night anyway."

She turned to Law, who looked like he had just rolled out of bed, judging from the way his hair was slightly tousled. His only article of clothing was a pair of drawstring gray pants that looked exceedingly comfortable. It was the first time Spade had seen him fully shirtless.

Law was heavily tatted. On his forearms and hands were plain crosses and what appeared to be tribal tattoos. Larger tattoos decorated both sides of his torso, with an intricate heart holding a smiling Jolly Roger on his front and the Heart Pirates' Jolly Roger on his back. The heart on his chest winged out over his clavicles, where they nestled near matching heart tattoos on his shoulders. Clearly, Law wanted everyone to know what crew he belonged to.

Spade liked her men burly, built, and widely inked. Law barely fit the picture, and even his extensive tattoos could've been considered gaudy. _Not my type_ , she warned herself, despite that Law honestly looked like he'd been cut from stone. He was not bulky, but every muscle on his chest was explicably defined and honed. His dark skin was smooth, with few scars, and the look that he was giving her could be described as smoldering if Spade were a fifteen-year-old teenager with a high school crush.

There was no space appropriate for her attraction. She'd known this since that first night when she'd wanted to put Law's fingers in her mouth; she'd deflected successfully that night, and she would just have to continue doing that, which wouldn't be hard considering that she had every reason to hate Law and after screaming at him earlier today, he knew it. Again, she was appreciative of his treatment and impressed with his professionalism, but that was the extent of it. She could not be lulled into a false sense of security. She'd been fooled once and early on. There was no room for error again.

"How are you feeling?" Law asked.

"Fine," she said. "The morphine helped. And surfacing did too, I'm guessing."

Law nodded once. "Good."

He walked past her, his expression almost bored.

"Bepo, we'll stay still tonight, but dive again once the sun rises. Miss Spade, what depth do you think your symptoms are triggered by?"

"Around four thousand meters," she said, surprised with his civility.

"We'll remain above that, then. Eat something, Miss Spade. Go to sleep, Bepo."

The door shut behind him, leaving Spade confused and almost guilty. Law's self-control was truly unnerving. She knew that she could be difficult to deal with ("You drive people fucking _insane_ sometimes," was a phrase she heard often), but there was a difference between her arguing for argument's sake and her aiming to wound. She knew Law hated being compared to Doflamingo, but she expected more self-defense.

"We saved you some soup," Bepo said, jolting Spade out of her thoughts.

"That sounds amazing," she said gratefully.

"Bread too!" the polar bear said, stepping into the back and re-emerging with a tray. "The soup's cold, sorry…"

"It's fine," she said. She sat down and took the tray from him. "Thanks, Bepo. You going to sleep?"

"Want company?"

"Wouldn't mind it," she said, surprised to find that she was telling the truth. She stirred what looked like tomato soup briefly before dipping a piece of whole wheat bread into it. "What were you and Trafalgar talking about?"

"Just navigation things," Bepo replied, chewing on his own piece of bread. "I don't rely on Log Poses, but everyone else does. Captain likes to confer with me to make sure we're on the same page. He likes to make sure no one on the ship is the only person who can do something."

"Safety nets?"

"Yeah, lots of us double up on duties. Captain can do everything, plus no one in this world is close to being as good of a doctor as he is, so he's the most important."

Bepo said this proudly, which looked truly adorable considering that he had breadcrumbs all over his fur. Spade smiled and chewed her bread.

"Everyone on this ship really respects him," she said honestly. "It surprised me."

"What? Why?"

Spade looked at Bepo, thinking carefully of her next words. "He seems…reserved. I never know what he's thinking."

"Oh, no one knows what he's thinking ever," said Bepo with a wave of his paw. "He's just like that! You just have to trust him. It makes things easier for us, too, because we know Captain thinks of everything to make us as strong as possible while keeping us safe."

"I see. So it didn't bother you that he went to Punk Hazard alone?"

"Of course it did," Bepo said easily. "We wanted to go with him. But Captain said it was better for him to go alone, so he did. I wish we'd been there to protect him, though. He said Strawhat Luffy really helped him out to defeat Doflamingo, and he said you saved his life. He said it was the un-sexiest way to ever meet someone."

Spade glanced up from her soup, startled. "He said that?"

"Yeah!"

"He actually said the word 'un-sexy?'" she reiterated, incredulous. "He can _joke_?"

"He jokes all the time!" Bepo said enthusiastically. Spade had to be grateful that the bear was so innocent; any other crewmember would've taken offense to her disbelief. "He's serious a lot but then he says something super funny but with such a serious face that it always takes us a minute to laugh. That's probably why he calls us 'idiots' so much."

Spade shook her head. "I find that all really hard to believe."

Bepo looked down at her, now solemn. "I'm sorry he has your heart, Spade. But he won't use it. He likes and respects you. He's just worried you're gonna run away if he gives it back."

It was clear that even among the rest of the crewmembers, Bepo was held in high priority. Law talked about his plans and fears and _feelings_ with a bear that said "sorry" at the slightest provocation. Maybe that made sense, though. Law was so obstinate, he needed a "yes-man."

"I told him to give it back," Bepo said apologetically.

"You did?" Perhaps Bepo wasn't a yes-man after all.

"Yeah, he said no, sorry. But I tried."

"Well, thanks for that," she said, mildly amused. "Didn't think nicely asking would work, but I appreciate the effort."

"Would you leave if he did?" Bepo said anxiously. "Captain says we really need the Whitebeard Pirates if we're gonna fight Kaidou. Captain rarely asks for help, so when he says we need it, it must be serious."

"Of course it's serious," she replied frostily, "but your captain isn't the only one with people to protect, Bepo. I have people I care about, too."

"Sorry. I know," the bear said, cowed and contrite. "I just wish you guys could get along."

"We're fine," she said, taken aback that Bepo even thought otherwise. Spade was always careful to be at least polite to Law when the rest of his crew was around, and Law only threatened her when they were alone. It was an unspoken agreement between the two of them to keep the rest of the crew out of their spats, as if they were a divorcing couple trying to shield their children.

"I wouldn't describe it as fine," Bepo frowned. "You smell different around him. Like you're scared of him."

She glared at him. "I'm not _scared_."

"It's not just fear!" Bepo said quickly, trying to pacify her. "It's other stuff too! Like you want to mate him!"

Spade choked on the last of her bread. Bepo appeared to grow more panicked as Spade hacked out her food while continuing to glare at him as much as she could.

"I-It's not just you! H-he smells the same way around you!"

" _For fuck's sake, Bepo, stop smelling us_!"

"What's the big deal?" the bear said shiftily. "It's just mating…everyone does it."

"Yeah, yeah," she said, face burning. "Of course it's just…mating."

She pushed her empty tray aside and ran a hand through her hair. Bepo kept glancing at her curiously.

"What is it, Bepo?"

"I think being around you upsets the Captain," he said seriously.

"He seemed fine just now."

"He smelled different."

"You _just_ said he wanted to fuck me," she said wryly.

"Yeah, but the other scent was stronger. I don't know how to describe it. I just know it happens when you're around and it makes him unhappy."

"Well, I know I'm a ray of sunshine," she muttered.

"Spade, we like you a lot. The crew, I mean. But the Captain's important to us. He gets in moods sometimes and it's our job to bring him out of them."

"What do you want me to do about it?" Spade said, blistering. "He's the one who has my heart."

"The Captain can be harsh and it can seem cruel, but I swear to you he's not. Just…give him some time and forgive him. He forgives us all the time. It's how a family works."

Spade gave a weary smile. "You really understand and love your captain, don't you, Bepo."

The bear nodded happily and began to prattle on about how he'd first met Law. Spade listened, but her heart was elsewhere, beating in an aquarium on the opposite end of the submarine, a reminder that she wasn't part of that family and therefore had no reason to care how this family worked.

* * *

Law was having trouble sleeping. Insomnia was a regular occurrence for him; thinking too much naturally accompanied the curse of genius.

He was on deck, thankful for the calm of the night and the silver shimmer of the moon as it illuminated the Polar Tang. He was standing at the edge of the bow, smoking and trying to clear his mind unsuccessfully. They were still a while away from Raijin Island. There had been no news from the Strawhat group that had sailed to fight Big Mom, but Law assumed they were fine. If Luffy truly adhered to the goal of rescuing Sanji and leaving, then there should be no complications. Some part of him found Luffy running away an unlikely prospect, but there was nothing he could do about it. The other half of the Strawhat crew should've arrived in Wano Country. Law was expecting a Den-Den Mushi transmission any minute now.

Doflamingo's imprisonment had set the world into motion, and because Law was partially responsible for smashing the stagnant gears, he intended to follow its ramifications closely. He was still waiting to hear from Bonney to see if she could confirm the rumors about Eustass. The paper had not revealed anything, but the paper was useless beyond its updates of the preparations for this year's Reverie, the official gathering of all the rulers of countries that composed the World Government. If Law truly wanted news, he could only expect it from Hurricane, though he did not think she was in a sharing mood at the moment.

Law took a deep breath of his cigarette, enjoying the sensation of a warm breeze across his bare chest. Spade really could be such an asset if she were on his side. Law actually found himself jealous of Marco the Phoenix—how nice it must be to not have to fight Skye Spade tooth and nail for absolutely everything.

He let out the breath and watched the smoke balloon in front of him. It was odd how his relationship with Spade constantly waxed and waned. He'd truly thought she was one of the few he'd felt a natural affinity for. How quickly that had evaporated, only to be replaced by a sharpened double-edged sword. Advance, and he risked being run through with reflections he did not want.

Another wind blew, stronger this time. The door to the submarine opened and closed. Law did not need to turn around to know who had joined him.

"Have another one?" Spade said as she joined him.

He silently handed over the box of cigarettes and held the lighter for her. She lit her cig and breathed in. Law watched her body relax. He had never seen Spade's hair in anything except for a braid, but now it fell in loose waves over her shoulders. She looked calm and collected, completely different from earlier that afternoon.

"You look like you're feeling well," he said, breaking the silence as the two of them looked over the calm waters.

"Mm," was her only reply.

Law did not feel the need to continue the conversation. He needed to be careful. He was not chasing for her validation.

"Bepo was telling me how you two met," she said. "Said you saved him from bullies, who turned out to be Shachi and Penguin. They saw you were strong and decided to follow you."

"Sounds about right," he said.

"Does it?"

His eyes flickered down to her. "How else would you tell it?"

"Bepo got mad when I said they follow you just because you're strong," she said with a cynical smile. "Anyone can be strong. There's tons of people who are strong. But they follow you because you're strong, you care, and you have a dream. You need the three together."

"Ah." Law shuffled uncomfortably. "He has mentioned that before."

"Your crew really loves you," she said quietly as a stronger wind blew and Law saw a small pillar of water peak in front of them, disturbing the otherwise smooth landscape. "It's not just idolatry or blind faith. It's genuine love and trust. I like your crew, Law."

"So do I," he murmured. Another pillar joined the first, and Spade made them dance. He had to admire her control.

"Bepo says I piss you off, or something."

Law chuckled darkly. "You grate my nerves, certainly."

"Is that it?" she said, turning toward him sharply. Her face was barely lit by the glowing red of her cigarette stick.

He paused. "What else is it supposed to be?"

Spade brought a hand up to his chin, tilting it downward so that he was looking at her directly. Law remained completely still as that same hand trailed down his neck, then his chest, slipping over the ridges of each muscle as it traveled south. Law's breath hitched when she reached for the drawstring of his pants, untying it one-handedly as she maintained eye contact with him, the black of her pupils swallowing her eyes.

"Bepo says you want to fuck me," she said, voice so soft it was deadly.

Law didn't have a response. Spade didn't need one; her hand slid under his pants, over his crotch and found it hard and aching. A small smirk played at her lips as she palmed it roughly, causing Law to bite back a groan and buck forward, seeking her touch.

"Is that true?" she whispered into his ear.

Law tossed his cigarette into the water and grabbed her by her hips to push their bodies flushed. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and kissed it hungrily, his hands roaming the curves of her ass as Spade continued to stroke him hard, fast, as if she knew exactly how he liked it.

"You want to fuck me so hard you break me, is that it?" her voice said, light and breathy as Law's own breaths became ragged. "Want me on my hands and knees, begging you to stop? Or begging you for more?"

She gripped the base of his shaft suddenly and Law hissed, his hands leaving her body and instead finding grip on the sub's rails behind her, encaging her between him and the edge. Spade resumed her ministrations, each caress bringing Law closer and closer to the brink of something he'd been waiting for a long time.

"I think you're the one closer to breaking, Law," she purred. She remained unbearably calm, her cigarette still in her free hand as she simply smiled up at him. Her strokes became faster, rhythmic, firm enough that Law was thrusting against her to fuck into her hand. He was panting hard, resting his forehead against hers as sweat rolled off his skin. He leaned into kiss her, hungering for something open-mouthed and messy and full when Spade turned so he could only catch her cheek. The denial made something in Law snap and he felt that high pleasure inundate him; he moaned into her skin as she stroked him through his orgasm.

"Watch out, Law," she whispered. "You should be careful what you wish for."

Law woke with a sudden snap, nearly gasping for air and fully hard.

 _Shit_ , this was not something that had happened to him in a while. Active fantasies about Spade were one thing, but dreams? Dreams were subconscious, dreams _meant_ something because he could not control them. And it wasn't like that dream had just been a quick hand job—it had a full conversation, even a context that was entirely believable because Law had spent a good bit of time the previous night on the deck of the sub, smoking, with some part of him wishing Spade would join him.

There was a violent banging at his door that Law now realized was the source of his sudden waking.

"Trafalgar!" Spade's voice came angrily. He should've known it was a dream immediately—Spade didn't call him by his given name. "Answer me! I know you're in there. Are you dead?"

"I was sleeping," he said testily, willing his body very much to _calm the fuck down_ because there was no way he was going to let Spade know he'd woken up with a raging boner due to her. "What do you want?"

"I'm coming in."

"What the fuck—"

The door burst open and Law was thankful that his sheets were hiding his very interested crotch, but Spade looked so intensely fixated on something that he doubted she noticed anything.

"Doflamingo's out of prison," she said breathlessly.

If there was any sure-fire way to kill an erection, that was it.

"What?"

"I got the news this morning," she said. "There's nothing in the paper about Impel Down being broken into which means that the Marines are either in on this or they're too embarrassed and are covering it up, so that tells us nothing. But my contact is solid and I trust them—I'm still waiting on some more information but I wanted to let you know."

Law felt like someone had taken most of the oxygen out of the atmosphere, leaving him at an elevation that forced his breaths to be shallow and weak. Spade was hyper-focused, almost appeared nervous as she delivered the news.

"Why did you tell me?" he asked.

Spade looked incredulous. "What?"

"You didn't need to tell me," he said. "I would've never known. You could've let Doflamingo hunt me down, catch me by surprise."

Spade's expression grew more and more disbelieving.

"Is that how your mind works?" she said as she approached him, eyes blazing. "You just constantly think of ways you can fuck people over and vice versa?"

"You have nothing to gain by telling me."

"Of course I have something to gain!" she said angrily. "I'm on your fucking ship! If Doflamingo came now, we'd both die!"

"You can easily run. Grab all the hearts, get away."

Spade looked incensed by this suggestion, but something about Law's expression must've forced her to calm down because she stared at him levelly. He could see her mind working, trying to put things together, assessing his reaction and attempting to understand. He did not know why she made the effort. She thought he was a monster, someone she couldn't trust—she thought he was Doflamingo's equal.

Spade took a deep breath, looked him square in the eye, and again showed that uncanny skill of knowing exactly where his mind was.

" _You_ think you're like him."

Law did not want to talk. "Leave, Miss Spade."

"For fuck's sake, _fight me_ _back_ ," she said, furious. "Fight me, prove to me that you don't think you are!"

"Why? You are already fixated on this belief. You told me yourself—there's nothing for me to prove."

"Because it doesn't fucking matter what _I_ think! Nothing matters as long as you know it yourself—if you know you aren't him, you won't become him. Prove to me that you know you're not!" she said, voice raised that she was bordering a shout.

Law narrowed his eyes. "You were singing a different tune yesterday."

"That's because I say shit when I'm pissed off and threatened, and you've made me feel both recently. It's how I protect myself. For fuck's sake, Trafalgar, I thought you had more balls than this."

She exhaled and ran a hand through her dark hair. Law watched it cascade down her shoulders in waves, the kind that resulted from being kept in a braid, and he really did hate how close his dream and reality were when it came to knowing what he liked on Spade.

"No one will fight for you if you don't fight for yourself," she said, her eye contact so pointed it was almost violating. "You have nothing to prove to me."

Law did not respond. That burning, bubbling acid inside of him that gnawed through his insides did not disappear, but its source changed. The knowledge that Doflamingo was out of prison was terrifying, but believing that Doflamingo did not live free inside of _him_ , did not enact all his atrocities through Law's hands, that distinction was critical to him.

The high that Law got from killing and the one he got from saving were so intertwined that Doflamingo's pull on his very soul made sense. It was a constant struggle, the battle for power and his thirst for everything it embodied pitted against his natural duties as a doctor. But Law had decided long ago which side he wanted to win, and if Law believed that he was no different from his mentor, then what exactly had Corazon died for?

"You have a tongue," Spade said, breaking his internal monologue. "You can use it."

"I can indeed, in many ways, in many contexts, much to your pleasure," Law answered, completely deadpan.

Spade just stared at him, completely thrown.

"You're in my room," Law said dryly, "in the early hours of the morning, and I'm completely naked under these sheets by the way. Some bedroom humor is to be expected."

"Humor of any sort with you is _never_ expected," she flared.

"I beg to differ." Law leaned against his headboard and noted that Spade was now watching his movements carefully, as if she had just realized he was unclothed. "Like what you see, Miss Spade?"

"God, I thought you were different from other men, but even a well-mannered pig is still a pig," she muttered.

"Indeed," he agreed. "Pigs are honest with their intentions, at least. I rather like your hair down."

"Holy shit, this is not what I came here for. Get dressed, Trafalgar."

"In a moment. Thank you for telling me this news, Miss Spade. But why the change of heart?"

"It's not a fucking change of heart. I told you I'd keep you posted about Doflamingo. I keep my word."

"You and I both know that's not it. You looked ready to tear me apart yesterday. You look ready to tear me apart now, but the intentions are a bit different, I assume."

She ignored the innuendo and glared at him. "Thank Bepo. We talked a bit yesterday. Someone as innocent as him couldn't love someone as evil as Doflamingo. And despite all the shit I said to you yesterday, you still treated me. That was…" She looked like she had bitten something particularly bitter. "That was kind. So here I am. Returning that favor."

"I'm a doctor," he said. "It's my job."

"Well I'm an Intel Broker, so I suppose I can say the same thing."

"Miss Spade—"

"Can't you just take it when someone's being nice to you?" she snapped. "Not everything has to be a deal!"

 _Fuck it_ , was Law's final thought before he cast cautions and consequences into the wind. He leaned forward and grabbed Spade by the wrist, yanking her indelicately onto him. She made a mild sort of yelp before Law placed one hand under her chin and the other around the small of her back, and he kissed her.

 _Fuck, yes_. He kissed her hard, open-mouthed and heavy. He could feel her pull away initially but he held her still, coaxing her to relax, trying to make her feel that sense of safety and comfort that he knew was not just in his head, that had to be shared. That affinity had to come from somewhere, had to be real, because otherwise Law would not have felt so irate and raw when it was broken.

Her lips were soft, her skin hot, at the temperature her breezes always blew. Her body was positioned awkwardly on his, and she was holding her own weight by pressing her palms against the mattress to prevent herself from fully sprawling over him. Regardless, Law was very certain that she could feel every contour of his body and was not shy. He rolled his hips lightly against hers and Spade made a soft noise; she got his message that this could turn into something very good.

Spade did not resist him, but she did not kiss him back, either. Law had enough presence of mind to stop, dreading the reaction when it became clear she did not feel the same way.

He looked at her almost hesitantly. But Spade's pupils were fully blown and she looked like she was eyeing a meal she was trying very hard to resist.

Neither of them said anything. Law was breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath from both the kiss and everything before it, while Spade merely stared at him like she couldn't decide if she wanted to kill him or fuck him.

"That's all you'll get from me," she whispered.

She stood up, pulling out of his hold, and exited the room.

Law leaned against his headboard, body aching and thoughts in shambles. He had made a mistake, likely. But for once in his life, he preferred the reality to the dream.


	9. Advancement

**Chapter 9: Advancement**

If Law had meant anything by the kiss, he didn't let it show. Similarly, Spade acted as if it had never happened. It was easy to rationalize her way through it: Law always changed when Doflamingo was involved, and she had not exactly been kind to him since they'd left Zou and she knew that it bothered him. The news that Doflamingo had broken out of prison made Law emotional, and the kiss had been a panicked culmination of all Those Feelings. Spade had been the unlucky recipient of Those Feelings, and all Those Feelings therefore represented nothing.

She did not avoid Law, nor did she blush coquettishly when he was around. She was a grown woman, well aware of the effects that being in cramped quarters with relatively attractive people could have on any given individual. She did not blame Law for the kiss, nor did she seek out an explanation. It was as simple as Bepo had made it: they wanted to fuck each other, likely out of spite more than anything, but it was an unwise choice for both parties and so they were left with this relentless sexual tension instead.

Nonetheless, it was clear that the personal friction between the two of them had diminished. Spade attributed this mostly to Law recognizing that she had been unnecessarily nice and taking the gesture as an olive branch of sorts. She had never meant for it to be such a thing—she still had every intention of finding her heart when she could and leaving Law out to dry—but the constant hostility between them had been exhausting, so she consented to a truce, no matter how rocky. Law began to share with her his research on Indigo Rings, which she had to be impressed with because Law wasn't even from South Blue. In return, she let him listen when she tuned in for news from the Underworld.

They reached a routine of sorts as they sailed at a reasonable pace toward Raijin. The journey was long but thankfully unexciting; the submarine managed to avoid the tumultuous weather of the New World by diving deep, and whenever they needed to go below four thousand meters, Spade would take a sedative and sleep through the terrors. They resurfaced every night, which essentially made Spade nocturnal, but she did not mind. It was always quieter at night and she could concentrate better when she was alone. Unfortunately for her, though, Law did not sleep much, which explained the significant dark circles under his eyes and his overall competence since he appeared to have more time in his day to accomplish things.

Once Spade woke up around twenty-two o'clock, after the rest of the crew had finished dinner and was preparing for the night shift, she and Law would sit on the deck and listen to her Den-Den Mushi. Law always curled up against a wall, hat snug over his eyes and nodachi tucked under his arm, giving the impression that he was sleeping. Spade knew better. Law never missed a single detail and never needed to be reminded of anything once he'd heard it.

She'd received news of Doflamingo's escape from one of Aokiji's contacts, a Marine prison guard stationed at Impel Down. The details were unclear, but it appeared that a team had broken the Heavenly Yaksha out. She guessed it was Kaidou, but there were no rumors from anyone that Kaidou had dispatched a team. In fact, there were no rumors whatsoever on the Underworld that Doflamingo had escaped at all, which puzzled Spade greatly. Surely such a major player as Joker would be welcomed back with open arms—why would no one have heard of his escape?

"He knows how to bide his time," Law said when Spade brought up this point. "Doflamingo's a piece of shit, but he's a smart piece of shit. I'm not surprised there's absolutely nothing. He knows how to properly work the shadows in the rare times he doesn't want an audience."

"Why bide his time, though?"

Law shrugged. "If Kaidou broke him out, he's probably getting punished for fucking up." The thought brought a strange smile to Law's face. "If it wasn't Kaidou, then Doflamingo's going to want to avoid Kaidou at all costs."

"That makes sense," she said reluctantly. "I just don't like how I haven't been able to get a second source to verify. I trust my first, but it's just weird."

She wanted Fujitora's confirmation, but the Admiral had been difficult to get in contact with. Spade was too wary to leave a message beyond a callback number of one of her Burner Mushi, but nearly a week had gone by since the initial report and still Fujitora was silent.

"Do you think he got released by the World Government?" Law said. "He said when we fought in Dressrosa that he had blackmail over most of the Nobles. Maybe they staged the whole thing."

"It's possible. It's just with the Reverie so close, I don't know if they'd want to risk such a huge scandal. Riku will be going as Dressrosa's representative this year—I don't think the rest of the World Leaders would look too good abetting a terrorist."

Law frowned. "I hate speculations."

"Me too." Spade tuned the Mushi, looking for other news but not feeling hopeful. The news had been quiet since the Battle of Dressrosa—nothing really beat the complete defeat of a Shichibukai.

She was sorely mistaken.

"Breaking news: the main Revolutionary Army base at Baltigo, the Island of Mysteries, has been destroyed by Blackbeard's fleet," the Mushi intoned. Spade straightened up immediately. "No confirmed reports of the deaths of any Revolutionary Army leaders, but they have fled their base. Pending status update from nearby sources."

"How?" said Spade, bewildered. "Even the Marines haven't been able to find Baltigo for a decade—how in the world did Blackbeard do it?"

"It seems too close to the Dressrosa incident for it to be coincidence," Law noted. "Perhaps Sabo was followed? Didn't you say that Blackbeard had someone at the Colosseum?"

"Burgess," she said, miffed that Law had made the connection before she did. "You're right."

A small smirk quirked at his lips. "Still sounds nice when I hear you say it."

Spade rolled her eyes and made a note in her journal, adding to a long list of things she needed to discuss with Marco. She had not left him a message in a while now—the news that she was traveling with Law was information she did not want to risk getting Traced or decoded. Plus, she still did not intend to bring Law to the Whitebeard base at all. If Law and Marco were never going to meet, why bother telling Marco anyway?

"What exactly is Blackbeard after?" Law asked abruptly.

"The One Piece," she replied. "Being Pirate King. Just like the rest of your generation."

"My generation," Law scoffed. "You're younger than me, aren't you? Don't you consider yourself part of it?"

Spade shook her head. "The Worst Generation came after Ace of Spades had separated. I don't know what to consider myself a part of, but Ace of Spades was the closest thing to an identity that I had. Ace eventually made a name of himself alone, but even then, he was one of the youngest Whitebeard commanders. Hard to pin him to a point in time."

She glanced up to find Law was looking at her peculiarly.

"What's wrong?"

"Many things," he said cryptically.

Spade scowled. "Spit it out."

"Ace of Spades was the closest thing to an identity that you had?" he said, disdain clear in his tone. "You're the fucking Hurricane. You're a contentious point of contact for the Whitebeards. Your bounty isn't pointless, Miss Spade. You are more powerful now than you have ever been."

"Power isn't an identity," she returned. "It's an illusion, most of the time. Being strong and having power usually come hand-in-hand, but they aren't the same thing. Power can be ripped away and restored at a moment's notice, and no matter how strong you are, sometimes just a little luck and divine fucking-you-over are enough to take everything away from you."

"Power is real, Miss Spade," Law said, eyes steely.

"Just because something is an illusion doesn't mean it's not real," she said.

"You're speaking in riddles. It's not like you."

"I'm not meaning to," she said, frustrated that her point was not clear. "I just mean that most of the time, the pursuit for power or the imagination of your own power is something that's just in your head. But the moment someone takes something important to you and uses it against you, who cares if you're strong? You've lost."

"So that's why you're an Intel Broker," Law said understandingly. "Knowledge is power."

"Usually, but only until someone just rips my head off, or takes my heart out," she said, giving him a sharp look.

Law chuckled. "Point taken."

The sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the sides of the submarine were soothing, interrupted occasionally by the groan of a sea king. Law stretched his long legs out and let out a breath. He had taken to wearing just an open black jacket with speckled jeans recently, and Spade always made it a point not to ogle at his chest too much. Law seemed to know how much she enjoyed looking at him from a purely objective perspective, and she did not want to give him any more satisfaction.

"Miss Spade, may I ask you a personal question?"

Spade frowned. It was unlike Law to ask permission to ask a question, and even less like him to explicitly step into personal territory.

"Maybe," she said cautiously.

"You don't have to answer. Just don't get offended."

"I can't guarantee that, but go ahead."

"You said that Ace of Spades was the closest thing to an identity that you had. The impact that Portgas D. Ace had on you is clear. I simply have a difficult time understanding…how exactly did you and Portgas D. Ace…work?" Law appeared genuinely perplexed by the prospect. "I heard he was similar to Strawhat. He doesn't seem like your type."

Spade actually laughed. "Trafalgar, do you really think you know me well enough to know what my type is?"

"I feel like I know you better than most people, surprisingly," he said, somewhat affronted by her response.

"That's rich," she said sardonically. "I wouldn't even try to hazard a guess for yours."

"As much as I hate to admit it, I think your guess would be closer than most."

Spade finished writing a note to herself and closed the book. That relaxed atmosphere between her and Law had reappeared, as if the reconciliation and the kiss had restored their equilibrium. She had to remind herself: Law still had her heart. It was dangerous to be comfortable. She had been betrayed once already and had no intention of repeating that error.

"What do you want me to say?" she said, avoiding answering Law's first question. "That I'm your type?"

Law barked a laugh. "No, of course not. Try to put a bit more effort in this game, Miss Spade. Don't say something so simple."

"Simple but obvious," she said, packing up her things.

Law smirked. "I did tell you that if I wanted to fuck you, you'd know. Besides, if we're going to talk about obvious, then I believe the feeling's mutual."

"Not really. You just want to fuck me for fun. I have a hard time with that."

Law was surprised. "Really?"

"See," she said shortly. "You don't know me at all."

"I know you don't like being touched. I know you're cautious. But casual sex seems to be a nearly universal need for pirates. If you need feelings involved for sex, then life at sea must get very boring for you."

Spade made her face as blank as possible, though inside, she was dreading the direction of this conversation. She knew that among pirates, she was easily considered conservative when it came to her sexual behavior. It wasn't that she didn't want it, but her trust issues had always run a little deeper than most.

She did not need Law's judgment. In fact, she did not understand how she had ended up having this conversation with him in the first place. Law was right—it had been always been a little obvious what he wanted to do with her, but since the kiss, Law had become verbally explicit in his intentions. Oddly enough, he said things in a way that never threatened her. He was never overly touchy and respected her space, but living in such close quarters meant that they were bound to run into each other in slightly compromising positions. She could tell that his mind wandered off to less-than-innocent territory whenever he saw her with her hair down, or when he saw the full of her tattoos—her ink apparently turned Law on, which Spade found very strange.

Despite all her attempts at neutrality, though, Law appeared to make a connection that Spade really wish he hadn't.

"Miss Spade," he said slowly, "how long has it been since you've had sex?"

"Wow, we are getting _really_ personal here," she snapped. "I'm leaving before this gets any more uncomfortable than it already is."

"I'm a doctor. These questions are routine."

"We are absolutely fucking not having this conversation."

"Fine, fine," he said, hands up in surrender. "When I was talking about 'types' though, I didn't mean for sex. I meant as a partner. Though I suppose with you, the two must overlap." He looked up at her, thinking. "Someone similar to Strawhat just doesn't make sense with you."

"I was a different person two years ago," she muttered, desperately wanting the conversation to end.

"Were you? Or have you just reimagined yourself to be?"

Something about his tone bordered accusatory, but Spade didn't know why. She'd deflected Law's initial question, thinking it was just casual curiosity, but she was beginning to sense that nothing about Law's inquiry was so cavalier. He was fishing for something, something that Spade did not know, but she immediately retreated.

"You should go to sleep," she said. "It's late."

Law knew that she was not inclined to continue the conversation. He stood up to leave, but not before getting in the last word.

"Perhaps one of these nights, you'll join me, Miss Spade."

"Fuck _off_."

It was times like these she was thankful that her heart was locked away somewhere in Law's godforsaken laboratory. She did not need to know if the organ betrayed her, speeding up in pleasure, fooled by the man who'd stolen it literally and was aiming for the metaphor, too.

* * *

Spade slept during the daytime, which honestly relieved Law because it allowed him to pretend that she did not exist on his ship, thereby removing an obvious distraction as he attempted to get work done. He was growing bored with limitations of theory regarding his Indigo Ring research, as there was only so much he could do without the actual plant in person. There were several trains of thought he was itching to pursue, one of which was the potential for Indigo Ring PS to be a chronic pain reliever. Perhaps with some tinkering, he could create a powerful pain medication that lasted for hours with minimal side effects. It would be fairly useless in battle, but it would be a game-changer for those who suffered from chronic pain, or could be taken preemptively in situations where discomfort could be expected for lengthy periods of time. For example, if someone suffered from debilitating pain when in a submarine that submerged more than four thousand meters below sea level.

Despite all of the assertions from both parties that Law had nothing to prove to Spade, he found himself thinking of things that would be worth her while. In the annoying moments of Law's self-introspection, he knew his thought process was pathetic. The obvious way to win Spade's heart was to literally give it back to her. He just wasn't ready to give up that power yet.

He was acting like some smitten boy with a teenage crush, desperate for some girl's affection when the situation was far more complicated. Besides, at the end of the day, this whole attraction with Spade was not a childish crush. It was a very adult desire, rooted very physically, that Law was quite certain would disappear once they had sex. And he was even more certain that they would have sex and soon—as he had noted about himself long before, he was startlingly convincing when he really wanted to seduce someone.

Spade was simply proving to be more difficult than he'd anticipated. She was abnormally careful in this regard, and his deduction that she'd likely not had a partner since Portgas D. Ace's death was a rather large curveball. Convincing her to sleep casually with him when her last sexual partner had been the love of her life would require some careful maneuvering. It helped that he knew Spade was physically attracted to him as well—it was just a matter of making her stop thinking so much.

It was stupid. What did she think was going to happen while they fucked? How much trust did sex _really_ require—it wasn't like he was going to kill her during the act. Never mind that it was this same fear that had held him back from sleeping with Monet, which had ended up being a very wise decision. And never mind that he often considered killing Eustass whenever they fucked because the other Supernova did not seem to understand that Law did not take orders, _especially in the bedroom_.

"Captain?" Jean Bart's deep voice reoriented Law to the task at hand.

He was in the control room of the Polar Tang. Bepo was going through the anticipated route for the remainder of their travels to Raijin—at the rate they were diving, they had only six days left. Law had taken to spending more time in the control room, where their Den-Den Mushi were kept, as he was still expecting to hear from alliance members.

"You okay?" Jean Bart said, looking down at his captain, concerned.

"Fine," Law replied. "Apologies for losing my train of thought."

"Don't worry, we know exactly where to find it," Shachi said under his breath.

"What was that?" Law said, voice dangerous.

"Nothing," he replied quickly.

"He means we'll find your thoughts right down the hall, sleeping in a supply closet," grinned Ikkaku as she turned the steering wheel in her hand slightly.

"Ikkaku!" hissed Shachi.

"Oh, c'mon, it's not a big deal," Ikkaku laughed. "Everyone knows anyway."

"Knows what?" Jean Bart said, completely oblivious.

"That Captain really wants to bang our guest."

"Miss Spade?" the large swordsman said.

"Jean Bart is the purest soul onboard," Ikkaku sighed. "Even Bepo knows."

"You mean _especially_ Bepo knows," Shahic said dryly. "Bepo's the biggest gossip on this ship, always talkin' 'bout smellin' people matin'."

"Shachi!" the polar bear said, looking anxiously at Law, whose expression was darker than thunderclouds.

Ikkaku had always been less scared of Law's moods than the others, and one look had her laughing again.

"Captain, seriously, lighten up! If you wanna, we can stop at a random island so you can get things outta your system. Or you could just not follow your stupid rule about not fuckin' crewmates—plenty of us would be happy to do the job."

"Ikkaku," said Law through gritted teeth, "we've talked about this."

She shrugged. "I'm just tryna help. Where are the Kid Pirates? Maybe we can find them."

"No!" Shachi said emphatically.

"What, why? Their captain and our captain always 'meet' for hours," she said, making air-quotes around the word "meet."

"Captain's always in a worse mood after meetin' with him," said Shachi, shaking his head and talking as if Law weren't even present. "It's never worth it."

"Was worth it last time for me," Ikkaku said thoughtfully. "I stole a treasure map from Wire's room when he fell asleep after we fucked."

"And the fact that that map was actually very helpful is the only reason you're not getting punished for this ridiculous disrespect," said Law coldly. "Shachi, Bepo, you'll be doing double navigation shifts today."

"What?!"

"Captain!" whined Bepo. "I didn't even say anything…"

"You are the likely instigator behind the rumors."

"Sorry…"

"In all honesty though, Cap'n," Ikkaku said, "I think it'd help if you gave Spade's heart back. She's loosened up to you recently but I think she's still gonna sail us in circles without us knowing."

"I realize that," Law said with a weary exhalation. "I warned her against that, but truthfully I do not know what I'd do if she does.'

"Yeah, guess torturing her won't make her wanna fuck you."

"That is not my priority," Law said curtly.

"All men are ruled by their cocks, Cap'n," she said seriously.

"Do you _want_ double shifts, Ikkaku?"

"I'm just tryna help!" she said indignantly. "If you're just _nice_ to her by giving her back her heart, she'll want to show us to the Whitebeard base, y'know?"

"I do not believe in making decisions based on speculations of how people's feelings will guide their actions, Ikkaku. I need something more substantial over Skye Spade, and her heart is the only thing I have at the moment."

"She's never gonna trust you like that," Ikkaku said sincerely.

"That is also not priority," muttered Law, though he was less convinced of this statement.

Ikkaku looked at him understandingly but did not press the matter any further, knowing that she was stretching him very thin.

"She likes us," Bepo said. "We'll try to convince her, too."

"Thanks, Bepo," said the Hearts Captain, grateful that the conversation topic had reached an end. "Jean Bart, any updates from the Strawhats?"

"Nico Robin left a message early this morning. She said that their team arrived in Wano and will be meeting with rebellion forces there. They left a call-back number and said that the Kozuki Clan Leader lent them a Blocker Mushi, so we can call without fear of being Tapped."

"Convenient," said Law. "Miss Spade will be glad to hear that. Nothing from Bonney then? Or any news about Doflamingo?"

"None," Jean Bart said gravely.

"All right," Law said, frustrated.

"Is it possible Spade is wrong on that front?" Ikkaku asked.

"Perhaps," he admitted. "She said she's had difficulty verifying the news through a second source as well. But I just have a gut feeling it's true."

"Then it's probably true," she sighed. "Your gut is rarely wrong."

"If he's out," said Shachi timidly, "what d'you wanna do, Captain?"

Law didn't have an answer. What was there to do? He had dismantled everything that he could of Doflamingo's empire. Spade said that she'd acquired a good bit of Doflamingo's Intel network. There was nothing else Law could do prophylactically; he could only wait. It was an answer that unnerved him. He had never been good at twiddling his thumbs.

A Den-Den Mushi abruptly woke up from its slumber and rang.

"Incoming Call," it intoned, adopting a deep, scratchy voice that Law did not recognize, "from the Blackbeard Pirates."

His crewmembers gaped up at him, stunned, but Law himself was thrown. This was completely unexpected; he knew very little about Blackbeard, having deemed him one of the last Yonkou to deal with.

"I'm going to pick up," Law said. "Not a word from any of you, understand?"

The rest of them nodded, all jokes and banter gone as they deferred to him completely. Law picked up the Mushi.

"Who is this?" came a different voice from the opposite end of the line.

"Why don't you tell me first," Law said, tone steely.

"Well, our caller ID said Blackbeard Pirates, didn't it?" the voice giggled. It was rather high-pitched but likely male—it did not have the synthetic garble characteristic of voice alteration programs. "But I suppose I should be more polite. This is Laffitte, captain of the Fifth Ship of the Blackbeard Pirates. Am I speaking to Trafalgar Law, former Shichibukai, the Surgeon of Death, Captain of the Heart Pirates?"

Law grimaced—Laffitte's voice was mocking as it spelled out Law's titles.

"How did you get this number?" he asked.

"Excellent, it is you," Laffitte stated. "You certainly aren't easy to find. We've been looking for you for a long time now."

"I'm flattered."

"Mm, you were a Shichibukai so you were pretty protected, but after this whole Dressrosa incident, you really did us a favor. Never knew you had a thing for Doflamingo until then! Gave us a lot more information."

Law froze. He knew how Blackbeard had finally gotten his contact number.

Any lesser man would've lashed out immediately knowing that his arch nemesis was likely listening on the other end of the line, but Law was destined for greatness by the magnitude of his control. He thought quickly: there had been no other source confirming Doflamingo's escape from prison, and if he revealed that he knew Doflamingo was out of Impel Down, he would compromise Spade's contact and possibly reveal that he had an Underground Intel Broker onboard. Law had to be careful. He needed to know what the Blackbeards wanted from him, why they had Doflamingo, and whether Doflamingo was a willing accomplice or a prisoner.

Law had not wanted to involve Spade in this call. It was a direct call to him, and she was not a Hearts Pirate; more than anything, though, Law wanted to convince himself that he did not trust her and did not need to give her any more leverage than she had already.

This had been a mistake, one that he would have to evaluate later, but for the moment, he turned to Ikkaku and mouthed: "Spade."

Ikkaku nodded and left immediately.

"So tell me," Law said, "to what do I owe the honor? I must say, though, having one of his lackeys call me instead of talking to me himself…it's rather rude of Blackbeard."

"That's Admiral Blackbeard to you," Laffitte sniffed. "Our leader is quite busy, and having one of the Ten Titanic Captains call you is respect enough."

"I find that even more insulting," Law said coolly. "I'm assuming you want something from me."

The door opened. Law did not even turn around to greet Spade. The rush of winds surrounded him and settled as she materialized next to him, half-clothed and hair un-brushed. He brought a finger up to his lips and Spade nodded, her expression intense and focused.

"We do indeed," Laffitte answered.

Spade's eyes narrowed. _Laffitte_? She mouthed. Law nodded in response, unsurprised that she could identify by voice alone. She settled into Ikkaku's vacated seat and pulled out a Den-Den Mushi that Law recognized to be an Interceptor. She was going to try to trace the call.

"We are interested in something called Indigo Rings, which I'm sure you're familiar with."

"A flower grown in South Blue," Law said, careful to have his voice present the perfect amount of surprise. "I did some research on it when I was younger."

"Indeed," the Blackbeard captain said, delighted. "If I may remind you, you did some research on a particular strain, which you dubbed Indigo Ring PS."

"I did. I'm surprised you found that. My publications are hard to find," Law murmured.

"Yes, well, it did take us a while to piece things together. R.F. Latraga, a North Blue Researcher. Pseudonyms tend to be rearrangements of existing names."

"A childish move, but you can't blame me. I was fifteen."

"Impressive," Laffitte crooned. "Well, we've obtained a large amount of Indigo Rings PS and would be very happy to have you continue your research on them with our specific goals in mind."

"And that goal would be?"

"Unfortunately, we cannot reveal that until we have made an agreement."

"Agreements tend to involve some reward for both sides," Law said calmly. "You have yet to offer me anything, Mister Laffitte."

"Well, for one, after your little gimmick in Dressrosa, rumors have it that Kaidou is _very_ pissed off at you," Laffitte giggled. "In exchange for your services, our kind leader will protect you from Kaidou, as I'm sure you'll need it."

Spade was scribbling something on a spare scrap of paper while her left hand fiddled with her Interceptor. _More_ , it read.

"I'm afraid I must decline," Law said. "I don't need protection from your kind."

"Impertinent fool," Laffitte said, his tone turning ugly for the first time this conversation. "Careful who you insult, kid."

"Infantilizing me is hardly convincing me to help you, Mister Laffitte."

Spade, who had been very pale this entire time, smirked at Law. She continued to write. _What do they want you to find with IRPS?_

"I'm going to need more information," Law said. "What are your goals with Indigo Rings?"

"I already said that you will not be privy to such information until you've agreed, Captain Trafalgar Law."

"Then you have nothing that interests me, and this call is over."

Spade nodded approvingly. _Wait_ , she mouthed. She brought up her hand, palm outstretched, message clear. _Five seconds_.

"What if we told you," Laffitte said slowly, "that we could deliver Donquixote Doflamingo to you?"

Law's heart stilled. He looked down at Spade, who had immediately started to write. _ACT SURPRISED_.

"What do you mean?" Law said carefully. "He's already in Impel Down."

"Ah, yes. Well, what if I told you we could break him out and deliver him to you in person? You'll be able to exact whatever revenge you want on him as you see fit."

 _Breaking in takes work_ , Spade wrote furiously. _What's the point?_

Law glowered. He did not need her direction—he knew how to handle this.

"What's the point? Impel Down has plenty of torture in place. I'm not so petty that I need to punish Doflamingo personally."

"Ah, but I'm sure it'll be so much more satisfying if you can, mm? After all…I've heard so many curious things from my Marine sources…didn't Doflamingo kill your benefactor? A man named Corazon, right? Didn't he die saving your life?"

Law looked at Spade, whose eyes were wide but attentive. She scribbled on the paper, her handwriting growing messier with each line.

 _He's working with them_.

They had reached the same conclusion. No Marines besides Sengoku himself knew of Corazon and Law's relationship—Doflamingo must have told the Blackbeards this detail, knowing that it was an easy way to get a rise out of Law. Law had to be two steps ahead. React inappropriately and he would raise suspicions; be too gullible, and he'd play right into their hands.

"How would you break into Impel Down?" Law asked, biding time.

"We have our ways," Laffitte said evasively. "Friends in high places, friends who know things about their former employers…"

Spade looked like she'd been stabbed in the gut. Law felt a bit sorry for her—she had probably only gotten two hours of sleep.

"Assuming I say yes," Law said, earning him a sharp look from Spade, "how would this transaction work?"

"Ah, I'm so glad to hear that," Laffitte said pleasantly. "Well, we would send a ship at a meeting point with some Indigo Rings, let you experiment with a while. In the meantime, we will go retrieve Doflamingo, and once you have the results we'd like, we will exchange the two goods. How does that sound?"

"How do I know you're not going to just fuck me over instead of getting me Doflamingo?"

Laffitte laughed. "You will certainly hear about us breaking into Impel Down, Captain Law. As for the actual transaction, our captain has no reason to kill you. You are likely the only researcher alive who knows Indigo Ring PS this well—if anything, we are very committed to keeping you alive. So how about it, Captain Law? We know you're in alliance with the Strawhat Pirates, but this seems unrelated, mm? Side deals can be made."

Spade was shaking her head. _Too risky, reasons too weak_ , she wrote. _They're using an Untraceable, can't find them._

"Can you meet at Raijin Island in six days?" Law said.

Spade stood up, livid. Law placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

"I assume that's a yes then, Captain Trafalgar."

"It is. Bring all the Indigo Ring you have and your intentions."

"It won't be me, but we'll be sending one of the other Titanic Ten, Jesus Burgess. You may have met him at Dressrosa, Captain Trafalgar."

"I don't recall," he said smoothly. "I will be on Raijin Island in six days and will remain there for twenty-four hours before I call the deal off."

"We'll be there. Though I'm surprised. What are you doing so far back at the New World entrance?"

"I'm a curious man. I'd like to see if lightning could strike twice."

"On that island, the answer is yes. We will see you then. Pleasure doing business with you, Captain Trafalgar."

The call ended with a clack, and the Den-Den Mushi went back to sleep.

"What did you just do?!" Spade shouted, her voice so loud and sudden that Law almost jumped.

"Calm down, Miss Spade."

"They're suspicious that you're all the way back here!" she said, incensed. "You're going to lead them to straight to Marco!"

"I won't," he said serenely. "I'm assuming the Whitebeard base is much harder to find than that, otherwise any newcomer into the New World would've stumbled upon it. Besides, I was under the impression we'd be sailing for weeks after reaching Raijin."

"Because you'd sail us in circles," Bepo said for clarification. Law had almost forgotten that his crewmembers were still in the room; the call had been so intense that Law had only noticed Spade's presence.

"I'm still going to do that at this rate," Spade seethed. "You're dealing with Blackbeard now?"

"Of course not," Law said calmly. "I intend to meet them to get their supply of Indigo Rings and find out what they want with them. Then, I will kill the lot of them and give you Jesus Burgess's heart on a silver platter."

Spade was stunned. "What?"

"I assume that's something you want."

"What?" she said again.

Law looked at her intently. "You told me to surprise you, Miss Spade."

He wondered if she remembered that promise on the crow's nest. Was the transaction worth it now? Was this acquaintanceship worthwhile? And had Law finally proven that yes, he was capable of being kind?

Spade continued to stare at him, and Law noted that her pupils had widened, and that look on her face he now recognized to be _hunger_ had reappeared.

Bepo cleared his throat. "Um, Captain, Spade, I'm supposed to be on double-shift so if you guys wanna mate, maybe let me know if it's okay for me to step out or if you guys want to relocate, that's fine too."

Shachi groaned, burying his head in his hands. " _Bepo_."

Spade looked slightly abashed but gave the polar bear a genuine smile that Law was positive was supposed to be directed toward him. It made him want to slam her on the navigation board behind her and _mate her now_.

"Triple-shifts, Bepo," Law said tonelessly.

The polar bear did not even defend himself. "Sorry."

* * *

It was difficult for Spade to determine what Law's primary intention was: getting Hurricane to trust him, getting her to fuck him, or all of the above. In the end, she didn't dwell on it. Law was giving her something that she'd wanted for a long time, and whether he was doing it because he had feelings for her or because he was being manipulative did not matter. Being able to destroy one of the Titanic Ten was something Spade wanted very much indeed.

They spent the majority of the remaining journey huddled in Law's room that doubled as an office. The space was fairly small, with a medium-sized bed tucked into a corner, leaving room for a large desk at the opposite end of the room. Behind the desk were two giant bookshelves, stacked to the brim with textbooks and novels alike. Law's room was spartanly decorated but still cramped.

Given that they needed to be at Raijin in exactly six days, the submarine was submerged for a good bit of that time. It made Spade cranky and jittery, but Law remained impressively composed with her. There were multiple details they needed to hash out, preparations they needed to make, and plans that required close attention. It was critical that Blackbeard had no idea of Spade's presence onboard. Hurricane had released news in the Underworld that Skye Spade had joined the Strawhats in their journey to Big Mom's territory; since no one had heard from Luffy's group yet, there was no way to confirm or deny that story. The false information was a small blow that Hurricane's reputation was buffered to take. The divergence she'd get out of it was more important.

"At the speed we're traveling," Law said on the fourth day after the conversation with Laffitte, "we'll be in Raijin by tomorrow afternoon. It will give us some time to prepare beforehand. We should discuss our goals."

The room was full with several choice members of the Hearts Pirates, Spade, and Law himself. They were mostly seated around Law's desk, with Law and Bepo seated behind the desk and everyone else in front of it.

"Miss Spade will remain hidden until we've obtained the reasons behind the Blackbeards' interest in Indigo Rings," Law continued. "It is of paramount importance that none of you are to reveal her existence on this boat. We will receive the Indigo Rings, understand their intentions, and then I will obtain their Den-Den Mushi."

"You can do that?" Spade said, disbelieving.

"It's simple in my Room," was all Law answered with.

"Has anyone told you that that ability of yours is ridiculously overpowered?" she said scathingly.

"Only because I'm the one using it," he replied smoothly. "Believe me, if you gave the Ope Ope no Mi to Strawhat, he would've only managed to drown himself before finding out how to even create a Room. Focus, Miss Spade. We don't have time to get distracted with your jealous awe."

Spade muttered a quiet insult under her breath but let it rest; Law was right. They needed to stay on track.

"After that, Miss Spade may present herself, and we will fight," Law said seriously. "Our purpose is to kill everyone onboard except for Jesus Burgess, whom we intend to capture alive."

"No," Spade said sharply.

They turned to her, confused.

"The whole purpose of this operation is for us to have a hostage and consequently an informant, Miss Spade," Law said.

"You will die if you do not fight with the intention of killing him," Spade said coolly. "Do not underestimate Blackbeard's lackeys. Burgess himself took on one of Whitebeard's earthquakes head-on and suffered little consequence. None of us here have that level of offensive power—if you do not fight like you want to kill him, you are making a grave mistake."

"But if we kill him—"

"I'm fine with that," she cut in. "I'd rather kill him than have anyone here die trying to capture him. You guys are worth more than that."

"Aw, Spade," Ikkaku grinned, "that's real sweet of ya. But we're kinda insulted, y'know."

"Plus," Penguin piped up, "we only take orders from the Captain so…"

Spade glared at Law. "You know I'm right, Trafalgar."

"You are," he relented. "Very well. Fight to kill, everyone. But if we bring Burgess in alive, Miss Spade, you'll owe us a favor."

"I'm already bringing you to Marco," she said wryly.

"Maybe," corrected Ikkaku. "Besides, I don't think that's the kind of favor Cap'n has in mind."

"Any unnecessary comment deviating from our strategy to fight Burgess will be punished with bathroom duty for the rest of the month," Law said sternly.

"Aye-aye," Ikkaku said sheepishly.

"Miss Spade, if you'll discuss what we can expect from Burgess."

"The Titanic Ten are all extremely powerful," Spade said. "Burgess himself is known to be especially proficient in Armament Haki and therefore exceeds in hand-to-hand combat. Anyone who can't use Haki should not participate in this fight."

"Unfortunately, that includes a fair number of us," Penguin frowned.

"Less than half of us can use Haki, Captain," Jean Bart said, concerned.

"That's true," said Spade. "But a smaller party will honestly be better for us. Burgess is not known for his brain. If we are smart and efficient, we can dismantle the majority of his fleet before he even starts to fight back. I've sparred with most of you here and I think you'll be able to handle the rest of his fleet."

Spade paused here, debating on what to say next. Of course, Law caught her hesitation immediately and scowled.

"Miss Spade, I do not see any point in you holding yourself back. Any information you have is worthless if you hide it."

"I'm not trying to hide anything," she said, annoyed. "I just don't want to give you false information, and I know you hate speculations. To my knowledge, Burgess himself doesn't have a Devil's Fruit. But Blackbeard is the first person in history to hold two Fruit abilities at the same time, and I have reason to believe that his members may have a similar ability."

"Really?" Penguin gaped.

"I'm not absolutely certain how it's possible," she said, "but it's one of the reasons why we lost the Payback War. It's just to give you a heads-up. I don't know Burgess's full capabilities."

Law was quiet, evidently thinking.

"Is this a winnable fight, Miss Spade?" he finally asked.

His crewmembers looked aghast at the implications, but Law looked quite serious as he waited for a response. It wasn't that he didn't have faith in his team. He was merely being practical and had no intention to fight a battle that was lost at its onset.

"It's winnable," Spade said honestly. "You have me."

Law looked pleased at her confidence. "You rarely brag about yourself."

"Because in comparison to many of the Whitebeards," she said dryly, "there's not much to brag about. But I've never lost a battle at sea, and I've focused on close-quarter combat since Ace died. Devil's Fruits users are neutralized once they're doused in seawater. I'll be able to take care of that at the battle's initiation. When it comes to one-on-one, I don't think I would lose to Burgess."

"You speak as though you're fighting him alone."

"You may have your hands full with others," she said warningly. "And at the end of the day, Burgess is not a priority to you. Having half of your crew on standby is smart—if the battle looks like we're about to lose, you guys should run."

Bepo snarled, hackles raised. "We don't run, Spade."

"Bepo, you sound so scary," she said, astonished with the transformation.

The bear immediately became contrite. "Sorry."

"Be less weak-willed, would you," snorted Penguin. "We're smart about escaping, Spade. Don't worry about that."

"The same warning should extend to you," Law said seriously. "You are worth infinitely more alive than Burgess is. I will drag you out of there piece by piece if I see you being as foolhardy as you were with Sengoku."

Spade scowled. "It won't come to that."

"I have your word then. That's enough, team. Resume your duties. Miss Spade, if you'll come with me to the O.R."

Spade immediately grew wary. Law, sensing this, gave her a half-smile.

"No need to be frightened, Miss Spade."

"What do you want?" she said tensely.

"Nothing. I have a gift for you."

He stood up and made a motion for her to follow. Spade cautiously obeyed, hairs on her arms prickling as she fell into step beside him. Law appeared almost bored in a way that Spade admired. She had spent the last several days feeling on edge and prickly. Law's tranquility rooted her. Still, it did not prevent her from feeling uneasy as he opened the door to the operating room that hosted the aquarium of hearts, all freakily beating at different rates.

"Are you doing a check-up?" Spade guessed, apprehensive when Law gestured for her to sit down on the stainless steel operating table.

"Of sorts," he said, creating a Room that captured the aquarium. A heart appeared in his hands seconds later. "Please sit, Miss Spade. I'm returning your heart to you."

She stared. "Why?"

"It's yours to begin with," he said calmly.

Spade sat down gingerly, watching as Law approached her with the heart beating in his hands.

"Why are you giving it back?" she said suspiciously.

He ignored her and reached down to her waist, fingers hooking around the edge of her shirt and pulling it upward.

"Trafalgar!" she said angrily, grabbing his hand and forcing him to stop. "What are you doing?"

"Like I said. I'm replacing your heart," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

" _Why_?" she snarled. "You already said you wanted to give me Burgess when you don't need to. You don't have a reason to give me my heart back. How do I even know it's mine?"

"For fuck's sake, Miss Spade," Law said, the barest irritation finally cracking his apathy, "what reason would I have to give you someone else's heart? That's pointless. Not everything is a deal. Just take it."

In any other context, Spade would be simultaneously honored and bewildered that Law seemed to remember every conversation they had with frightening clarity, given how much he referenced her words. But none of this made any sense, and Law's kindness frightened Spade more than his threats ever did.

"I could leave the moment I have this," she said. "Disappear, leave you guys sailing aimlessly, with no way of finding Marco."

Law merely blinked. "There is Burgess."

"I can leave the instant that battle is won."

"You could. I hope you don't."

"What reason do I have to stay?" she said. "Without this heart, you will have no power over me any longer."

Law pushed her arm aside and resumed pulling Spade's shirt slowly up her chest, revealing that empty square right in the middle of her torso. They were in Law's Operating Room, and his gaze was nothing but clinical. The blue surrounding them glowed and Law fit Spade's heart back in her chest with ease, as if fitting a key into a well-oiled lock. Spade felt a sudden rush of blood to her head and blinked rapidly, seeing black spots. Law replaced her shirt and then pressed his fingers at her wrist, feeling for her pulse.

"Are you all right?" he queried.

"…Yes."

"Usually, there's no problem. You might have a slight headache, but it'll resolve within minutes."

Spade nodded, completely perplexed. Law reached for her right inner arm and pressed right on the tail of the phoenix tattoo.

"Brachial pulse," he explained, though Spade had not been asking this question. "Everything seems normal. That's good."

His index finger traced the geometric shapes surrounding the tattoo, and he offered no explanation this time for his ministrations. Spade was not foolish enough to believe that this touch was as detached as before. The blue of Law's Room had evaporated, the roles of doctor and patient with it.

"Your tattoos seem to all have emotional significance to you. Your legs are cosmetic but serve as a reminder to your childhood trauma. Your back, a tribute to the Firefist. The phoenix as a reference to Marco is obvious," Law said, voice quiet, touch light. "I've been curious about these shapes, though. Rather angular to be flames." He met her gaze, gray eyes intense. "Ice, perhaps?"

"Perhaps," she whispered.

He said nothing and continued to trace the inked skin, reminiscent of what he'd done the very first time he examined her legs. She knew she was not the only one reminded of that time.

"What do you want from me, Trafalgar," she said.

Law did not answer immediately, and when he did, the response was not direct.

"If you were not here," he said, "I would've taken that deal with Laffitte. The moment he spoke of Corazon, I knew that Doflamingo was working with them. Toying with me. Reminding me that the mere mention of Corazon, a man who loved me so much he died for me, was enough for me to forgo all precautions for the sake of revenge. It would've been a rash, foolish move, but I would've done it all the same." Law let out a breath. "That is what power is, Miss Spade. The ability to elicit that degree of emotion, feeling out of someone, no matter how unwilling. It is a mistake, but also a natural consequence."

Spade studied him carefully. "Is that what you want from me, then? Emotions? _Love_?"

Law scoffed. "Of course not. What great individual has accomplished anything when they've been in love, Miss Spade? Love is a fool's errand."

"Then what do you want from me?" she pressed, unyielding.

Law gave his characteristic half-smile that revealed absolutely nothing. "To bend you and to break you. I have been clear with that from the beginning." He turned to leave. "Sleep well tonight, Miss Spade. The upcoming battle will be difficult."

The door closed behind him with a thud that echoed through the rest of the steel-lined operating room. It was so quiet that Spade could hear the _ba-bump_ of each heart in the aquarium, all as out of sync as her own.


	10. Bend and Break

**Chapter 10** : **Bend and Break**

When Ikkaku was seventeen, she ran away from home. Her parents were both good-for-nothing drunkards who provided no financial support and even less emotional, making their daughter a hardened, crafty individual who learned how to fend for herself in the bitter winters of North Blue.

For the year after her escape, Ikkaku hid in the bellies of ships to travel from island to island, learning the skills required of a sailor and formed a spine made of steel to boot. She was fearless, sharp as a tack, and shameless—beggars couldn't be choosers, and if killing or fucking someone got her the things she needed, she did not hesitate to do it. Besides, she was very good at both tasks, so why shouldn't she exercise those skills if it got her what she wanted?

It wasn't like Ikkaku's dream in life had been to be a pirate. If she'd had a choice, she would've loved to be a mechanical engineer, studying physics and mathematics at Karakuri Island's Institution of Higher Learning, established by the world-renowned Doctor Vegapunk. It was a farfetched dream, one that her parents had laughed hysterically at because no one knew even how to get to Karakuri, much less send a starved, poor girl there just so she could _learn_. What was the point of cultivating her mind when there were infinitely more important things to attend to?

So Ikkaku put her dream on hold and focused on survival. By the time she was nineteen, she was skilled with a whole host of weapons and knew how to equip a battleship with a similar array. She could command and operate vessels of any size and knew enough basic navigation to have her own Log Pose. When she turned twenty, she grew determined to enter the Grand Line on her own, which was when she ran into Trafalgar Law and the Heart Pirates.

The meeting had been incidental. Penguin met her at a bar and hit on her with pitiable determination that Ikkaku intended to easily exploit. Killing off one measly cartographer so she could steal his guides into the terrifying Grand Line was the most straightforward plan Ikkaku could've hoped for. Unfortunately, his captain was infinitely less measly. Trafalgar Law saw through the plan from a mile away and intervened, managing to chase her all the way to her own ship. When he saw her vessel, though, he halted his original task of killing her.

"You outfitted this yourself?" he said, impressed as he touched the Kairoseki surrounding her ship. "This is finely done."

"How would you know?" Ikkaku spat as she sat on the ground, hands held behind her back by a polar bear of all things. "You look like you haven't held a tool in your life."

"That's certainly presumptuous. I equipped our submarine myself." Law paused after finishing his inspection. "Break down her ship and strip the Kairoseki."

" _WHAT?_ "

"Miss Ikkaku, I'd like your services aboard our sub."

"That'd be a huge fucking no."

"I understand you want to enter the Grand Line?" Law said with impressive arrogance for a twenty-two-year-old. "You'll have a difficult time doing that alone. I have been looking for a weapons engineer of sorts. I believe we can help each other out."

"I'm not about to join a bunch of pirates," Ikkaku said heatedly.

"Yeah, I dunno about that," Penguin said uncertainly. "Having a woman onboard…"

Law looked at Penguin unemotionally. "Any distraction that you find her to be is your own fault. She has uncommon knowledge that we can put to good use. I won't let that slip away simply because men onboard cannot think with their brains over their dicks."

It was this sentiment that convinced Ikkaku to join the Heart Pirates as their only female member, and it was also this declaration that led her to harbor a crush for her captain for several years. Unfortunately, despite his promiscuity, Law was steadfast in his belief that as captain, sleeping with his crewmen/women would be a huge abuse of authority. Ikkaku disagreed, especially if the exchange was mutual, but she could understand. As the only female member, she knew it would reflect poorly on her if Law slept with her—he wanted her reputation as a crewmember to be equal to the others, and sleeping with her captain would reduce her to the ship's harlot instead.

So instead, Ikkaku dedicated herself to serving her captain faithfully. It took several months, but the determination Law had to be a good captain and to make his crew strong became clearer than day to her. But it was his resolve for the One Piece that made Ikkaku truly believe. Trafalgar Law was destined to be someone great, destined to be the Pirate King, which was why the alliance with the Strawhat Pirates confused her. Why ally with another captain who declared the same goal? Ikkaku had been against it, but the rest of the crew outvoted her. _Captain's orders_ , they said. _We believe in him_.

Ikkaku believed in him too, but didn't want Law to get sidetracked or backstabbed when he least expected it. She shouldn't have worried. One second with Monkey D. Luffy showed her that the Strawhat captain wasn't capable of planning his next meal, let alone hatch a conspiracy of betrayal.

The presence of Skye Spade aboard the Polar Tang was a bit more troublesome, and for good reason. Spade showed much more foresight than anyone else Ikkaku had ever met, with the exception of Law himself, and the plans she was involved with were more dangerous than Ikkaku was comfortable with. Having her guide them to the Whitebeards seemed like a bad idea; fighting a Blackbeard fleet captain seemed worse.

Which wasn't to say that Ikkaku disliked Spade. It was nice to have another woman onboard, not to mention a legend of sorts, but friendships didn't make Ikkaku any less cautious.

The night before they were supposed to meet Jesus Burgess, Ikkaku was putting some finishing touches on several torpedoes when Spade found her in the torpedo room.

"Hey," Ikkaku greeted, wiping some grease off her forehead. "What's up?"

"Wanna get a drink or smoke up on deck?" Spade said serenely.

"Drink, sure. No one onboard smokes besides you and the Captain. Bad for your health."

"So I've realized," Spade smiled. "It's just when I'm stressed."

Ikkaku did not blame her. Everyone was stressed; the battle tomorrow was not going to be easy, especially with only half of the Heart Pirates fighting.

"Yeah, gimme a sec."

Spade waited patiently for Ikkaku to tighten one final screw into the torpedo launcher, and then the two women headed up to the surface. They'd spend the day finding a good site to fight at and would submerge early the next morning, only to surface when the Blackbeard ship arrived. Spade had stopped briefly on the island to "feel out some wind patterns," whatever that meant, and Law had accompanied her to inspect the terrain so he would know what aspects of the island he could use in a Room.

"I brought something special," Spade said, green eyes glittering when they reached the deck. She pulled two bottles out of a bag she brought with them. "I was a bartender in my spare time, whenever I needed to be undercover. Thought you'd appreciate a good drink more than anyone else onboard."

"I would," agreed Ikkaku, eyeing the champagne bottle with great interest. "That looks expensive. Did you bring them with you?"

"I did," Spade said, sitting down against the railing and bringing out two pilsner glasses. "Don't tell your captain, though. He told me to only bring essentials."

"Drinks are essential."

"Cheers to that," Spade grinned, popping open the bottle and pouring the champagne, followed by what looked like beer into the glass. She handed the first to Ikkaku. "Black Velvet. One of my favorites. Champagne with stout, makes you feel high-classed even though you're not."

"Gee, thanks," said Ikkaku sourly.

Spade laughed. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I know, I know." Ikkaku drank deeply and was delighted. "Shit, that's good."

"I'm glad you approve."

"So what is this?" Ikkaku said, stretching out her legs and enjoying the air despite the constant flashes of purple lightning that caused the night to ominously light up every couple seconds. "Our last supper?"

"Hopefully not," Spade said lightly as she lit a cigarette. "I'm just readjusting to my sleeping schedule. Drinking helps me fall asleep."

"Honored to be your partner tonight then."

"No one else I'd rather drink with," Spade said.

"Oh?" Ikkaku arched an eyebrow. "I'm sure Captain would love to."

"I'm so impressed you guys have gotten away with giving him some much shit about this," Spade groaned.

"Only 'cause it's _true_."

"Yeah, it is," she said irritably. "And it's a fucking bad idea."

"Why?"

"Because your captain may be a bit of a…slut, but I have difficulty with the same concepts," Spade said thinly.

Ikkaku burst out laughing so hard, champagne filled her nostrils. She was reduced to laughing and snorting at the same time. Spade did not look so amused.

"How'd you know?" Ikkaku wheezed. "Who'd he sleep with?"

"I don't think that's my information to divulge," Spade said with a bare smile.

"Was it Strawhat?" Ikkaku said seriously. " _Please_ tell me it was Strawhat."

"No," Spade said, surprised. "I didn't realize Trafalgar liked men."

"Men, women," the Hearts Pirate said with a casual wave of her hand. "Don't matter."

"Ah, that's new information."

"Not really," shrugged Ikkaku. "Most of the Supernova know. Captain Law and Kidd are the wildcards."

"Kidd?" Spade said, evidently trying to keep a straight face. "You mean to say, Trafalgar and Eustass Kidd—"

"I don't think that's my information to divulge," Ikkaku said slyly.

Spade barked a laugh, clearly taken with the gossip. Ikkaku grinned and nursed her drink.

"Seriously, though," Ikkaku said, "you and Captain. We've got a bet goin' on."

"Hope you bet for never," Spade said blithely. "Then we can split the profits."

"I bet yesterday," she answered, "because I figured after he gave you your heart back, you'd be so grateful—"

"Grateful?" Spade interrupted, voice now brittle. "It was _mine_ to begin with."

"Yeah, but Captain won it," Ikkaku returned easily, "fair and square. He didn't need to give it back. I'm glad he did though—he shouldn't have held onto it this long to begin with if he wants you to trust him."

Spade was silent for several seconds. "Is that what he wants from me? Trust?"

"I imagine so."

The wind-user blew out a ring of smoke, evidently thinking.

"How long have you been with Trafalgar?" she asked eventually.

Ikkaku thought aloud. "Four, goin' on five years now? Been a while."

"Has he ever…been in a relationship?" Spade said cautiously.

The brunette snorted. "Who has? Ain't no one got time for that."

"I see. I suppose that's true, most pirates don't." Spade took a drag of her gradually shortening cigarette. "I was just curious. It's hard to read your captain."

"Tell me about it. You just give up tryin' after a while. All his plans come together in some form, even if the final solution is years later. Y'know how long it took him to plan all that Dressrosa shit?"

"Years, I imagine."

"Almost a decade," Ikkaku said. "And we didn't know about the full plan until after everything happened."

"Isn't that frustrating? Not knowing?"

"Yeah, sometimes it is," Ikkaku admitted. "Makes us feel like he can't rely on us sometimes. But I know that's not it. He just doesn't feel the need to burden us with information he thinks is pointless. If he can make things easier for us by handlin' things himself, he will. It can be tough and we will always remind him that we're family, but we understand too—knowin' too much can be harmful, especially if one of us is captured. Control is Captain Law's greatest strength and greatest weakness. The real terror is if he were to get captured."

Spade puffed on her cigarette for a long time.

"He's lucky to have you all," she said, finally stubbing out the cig on the floor next to her.

"Well, we couldn't have asked for a better captain."

"I believe you," she said sincerely. "Ikkaku, you have a good crew around you. I know you guys don't follow anyone else's orders, but I'm sure you and many of the others are hesitant about tomorrow's battle. I don't feel great about you guys fighting either. If things get messy tomorrow, please take your captain and run."

"Can't do that, Spade."

"Don't be stupid," Spade said, tone severe. "This isn't a war you guys need to be involved with. Kaidou's after you already. You don't need Blackbeard, too."

"Captain's orders."

"Yeah, well," Spade said wryly, "Trafalgar may be smart but he's as stubborn as Luffy. Part of being a good crewmember is knowing when to override your captain."

Ikkaku watched Spade down the rest of her drink and stand up.

"Promise, Ikkaku?" she said lightly, handing her the rest of the champagne bottle.

Ikkaku sighed and took it. "Promise."

* * *

It was nearing two in the morning and Law was reviewing a map of Raijin when his bedroom door opened without preamble. Because no one in his crew was insane enough to disturb him without knocking, Law looked up from his desk and was entirely unsurprised to find Spade there. She looked at him impassively.

"I didn't have to think around him," she said clearly.

Law took several seconds to process, trying to think back to a conversation where this abrupt sentence would make sense. He came up empty.

"You asked," Spade said, reading his silence correctly, "how Ace and I worked. That's the answer."

"I see," Law said slowly, only for his thought process to catch up. "Actually, I don't. Explain?"

"Ace was smart in battle," she said, "level-headed and strong. But outside of it, he was simple. You got what you saw with him—there was never any second-guessing. If he told me something, I believed him."

"I see," Law said, understanding. "He was direct and pure-hearted."

"As stupid as that sounds, yes," she said firmly. "It's why we worked. He got me out of my head."

Law nodded. "That makes sense."

"So what did you mean then? When you said I had reimagined myself?"

Law glanced at the clock. "Miss Spade, it's two in the morning. Do you really want to have this conversation now?"

Spade sighed and sank into a chair in front of him. She looked exhausted and strained. The prospect of Burgess was clearly stretching her thin.

"No, probably not," she said, rubbing her temples.

"I did not mean anything by it," Law lied. "Either way, it is unimportant in the grand scheme of things."

She looked at him strangely. "You've been odd, recently."

"In what way?"

"You've been…nice."

"I've always been nice. Your suspicion of everyone and everything around you is difficult to overcome."

Spade snorted. "Your crew may believe that but I'm sure you haven't threatened to break them the way you've threatened me."

"Perhaps not," he admitted. "But they haven't questioned my intentions as much as you have."

Spade was quiet for a moment. "You can't really make up your mind, can you? Whether being kind or being cruel is more effective at getting you what you want?"

Law lied back in his seat, peering at her pensively. "It depends on the person. People respond to motivations differently."

"I mean you, though. What method do you prefer?"

Law blinked, growing uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

"Miss Spade, again, are you certain this is a conversation you want to be having at two in the morning?"

Spade smiled faintly, seeing through his deflection, but she did not pursue it.

"Go sleep."

"You too," she said, looking down at his map.

"I know," he said. "I just wanted to review it one last time."

Spade's gaze lingered on him, but Law ignored it. They all had different ways of dealing with stress. Law's was over-preparation. They had walked out on Raijin to evaluate the terrain and had settled on fighting on its leeward side, where the lightning struck least. There was only so much control they could have over nature, especially in the New World, but any efforts to mitigate Chance were worth taking.

He heard Spade take in a deep breath.

"Trafalgar."

"Mm?"

"Thank you."

Law's eyes flickered up to her. Her expression was almost gentle, which unnerved him. "What for?"

"Doing this. You don't need to do anything with Blackbeard."

"It was an eventuality, anyway."

"All the same." Spade leaned her head back, exposing her neck. If Law could choose where to place another tattoo on her, it would be on those sharp collarbones of hers, that perfect ridge and dip where his teeth could mark.

"It's nothing, Miss Spade."

"Sure."

Another silence ensued. He could tell she was debating something and wondered why she was here. Perhaps she wanted comfort. Imminent danger made people confront their deepest desires; perhaps Spade thought she would likely die tomorrow, and wanted to leave nothing unfinished. Law preferred sex as a victory celebration rather than a desperate avoidance of mortality, but he would not decline if that were Spade's intention tonight.

"Trafalgar, I am going to disappear in about five minutes."

Law stared at her. "What?"

"I'll be around, I want Burgess after all. But after I kill him, I'll disappear. You can't catch me, and I won't bring you to Marco," she said plainly. "I didn't want to surprise you. Figured I owed you a heads-up, at least."

"Why?" he said, voice dangerous.

"So you can do whatever you want tomorrow," she said. "You can try handing me over to Burgess, but I'll go ahead and warn you that that won't work. You can and should just leave after taking the Indigo Rings and let me fight alone. That way, your deal with Blackbeard still holds and you can try to get Doflamingo from him. But honestly, regardless of what you choose, I won't hold a single thing against you. You gave me this chance, and I'll take it gladly."

"Miss Spade," Law said in a deadly tone, "has it crossed your thick skull that I did this as a favor to you?"

"I recognize that, which is why I said 'thank you.'"

"Then why—"

"Because not everything is a deal," she said smoothly. "Which means not every favor has to be reciprocated."

Law stayed very still for a moment. Spade returned his stare evenly, waiting.

He created a Room immediately and lunged forward. Spade vaporized just as his hand, concentrated with Haki, reached her chest. She reappeared right behind him, a quiet laugh rumbling in her throat as she grabbed a fistful of his hair and pressed him down against his desk.

"I figured as much. You really can't stand things not going your way. But I won't let you take my heart again," she said, breath tickling his ear. "Go to sleep, Trafalgar. Hopefully, we won't meet again."

He felt a sudden dull pain at the back of his neck and the world went black.

* * *

Spade left the Polar Tang in the early hours of the morning, after knocking Law out and grabbing her important belongings from the supply closet: the Den-Den Mushi and her notes. She truthfully had not needed to bid farewell to Law, but ticking him off ensured that any gentle feelings toward her had been obliterated. Law did not need to be involved in fights of no importance to him.

Jesus Burgess's ship arrived at nineteen o'clock, its overbearing nature a direct reflection of their captain as it towered over the comparatively petite yellow Polar Tang. The imposing nature of the Hearts Pirate Captain as he appeared on the Blackbeard Ship was therefore all the more impressive, given that Burgess was literally twice his size. Spade found the lethal edge in Law's eyes much more chilling than any of Burgess's bravado. The Surgeon of Death brought with him a dark aura befitting his epithet; Spade was grateful that she was fairly invisible as she hovered over the meeting, her ephemeral form blending with the wind.

She knew that Law was furious with her, and she did not blame him. It was unfortunate that she could not positively reinforce his kind behavior, instead proving (likely not for the first time) to Law that faith in others was a grave mistake. Nonetheless, she could not let the shenanigans continue for much longer. She found herself growing careless with Law and softening up to his crew, and it took her some self-reflection to remember that they were never meant to walk converging paths. Law did not need to fight Blackbeard, and if he left after taking the Indigo Rings, Spade would be free to continue this mission independently. Blackbeard would not fault Law for the destruction of Burgess's ship, effectively taking a target off the Hearts Pirates. It was the kindest gesture she could afford, one that would even out the scales and leave her to return to the Whitebeards on her own so that she could continue her original mission. Kaidou and everything the Ninja-Mink-Pirate Alliance wanted to accomplish were not her issues.

Never mind that she was beginning to enjoy Law.

It had been a long time since she'd felt attracted to someone new, let alone have the burgeoning _affection_ that she was attempting to squash. Law was all layers and complexities, capable of cruelty and with a dark streak that Spade normally found herself wary of. She still was wary around him—she just realized that she was oddly attracted to his gloom and doom, too. It was such a contrast to what she thought she knew about herself that the best way to deal with it was to remove herself from the situation. Like both Law and Ikkaku had said—who had time for a relationship, and who had accomplished anything significant when they were in love? She and Ace were an anomaly, and her chance was gone. She should've been grateful for it when she'd had it.

Law's shadowed expression appeared to annoy Burgess deeply. The Blackbeard helmsman was accustomed to smaller men cowering in his presence, but Law looked bored and murderous all at once, and his demands rubbed Burgess the wrong way.

"I thought you said you had a large supply of Indigo Rings," Law said, tone blasé as Penguin received two wooden crates from Burgess's henchman. "This is pitiful."

"This is everything we could find!" Burgess said loudly.

Law sighed. "I thought my publications were clear in their harvesting instructions, but apparently not to an elementary-school reading level."

"Fucking—"

"Careful," Law drawled, Kikoku unsheathed the instant Burgess took a step toward him. The blue of a Room encased the entirety of Burgess's ship. "I took this meeting as a gesture of good faith. If I feel threatened, I may disappear with these Indigo Rings and you'll never find them again."

"If ya do," growled Burgess, "we'll find ya and tear ya apart, limb by limb."

"I believe I'm much more equipped to execute that threat," smirked Law. "Now tell me, what do you want with them?"

"I have a letter from our Doc," grumbled Burgess, handing over a sheaf of paper. "Instructions are in there."

It was annoying that she would not be able to overhear what exactly Blackbeard wanted, but it was not the end of the world. Spade already had her general suspicions, especially after the Surgeon had explained his research to her. The result of ingesting two Devil's Fruits was usually death; even if Blackbeard had found a way around this dire end, surely the consequences of avoiding death weren't pleasant. Law had mentioned the possibility of a solution to chronic pain. If he found it, Blackbeards' pirates could absorb multiple Devil's Fruits with little ramification.

Law handed the paper over to Shachi, who followed Penguin back into the Polar Tang with the crates of Indigo Ring.

"When will you break into Impel Down?" the Hearts Pirate captain said lazily.

"Depends how soon ya get us results."

"I'd say three months," Law said.

"That fast?"

"I tend to be good at whatever I apply myself to, Burgess. Tell your captain that I'd rather he show up himself next time. I don't like dealing with a thickheaded watchdog."

"That's it!" roared Burgess, spit flying everywhere. "I don't care what kinda smart-ass bitch ya think ya are, no one insults our leader!"

"I was insulting you more than him," Law said, unfazed. "No matter. Even insulting you is a bore. Tell Blackbeard to get Doflamingo—I'll contact you when I'm ready to meet."

"We'll be waiting," growled Burgess. "Ya better have what we want."

"I guarantee it."

The blue of the Room vanished, the Hearts Pirates with it. Spade waited for the highlight yellow of their submarine to slowly sink into the ocean, out of sight, before letting out a sigh of relief. With the exception of fighting with Ace, she always had fought better alone. Without having to worry about not drowning anyone else, Spade fighting uninhibited with every intention to kill made her half-billion bounty worth it.

Winds crescendoed all around the ship, whipping wildly with the ship at its epicenter. The Blackbeard Pirates below her scrambled, with orders to get out of Raijin's magnetic field as soon as possible. It was no use. The winds had already met with sea and a wicked wall of water surrounded the ship on all sides.

"What's going on?!" bellowed Burgess. "What the fuck's wrong with this weather?"

Spade let herself smile just a little bit. She was going to enjoy this.

* * *

Law stood in one of his operating rooms over the two measly crates of Indigo Rings, examining them as the Polar Tang delved deeper into the ocean, away from the strong currents that disrupted the superficial waters. Spade had clearly begun her fight, given the way the submarine rocked back and forth as it attempted to glide away.

At least the Blackbeards had actually obtained the right strain, which Law could identify based on a teal stripe licking up the center of each stem. Regardless, he had expected a much higher quantity of the plant. One look at Burgess made him understand why the Blackbeards hadn't managed much more. The Rings grew on the side of a precipitous cliff and required delicate maneuvers to harvest without snapping its roots. Law doubted anyone in the Blackbeard crew harbored the required level of finesse.

The Surgeon of Death was currently debating his next course of action, given that he was in the unique position where his guide had abruptly left him stranded. He was incensed with Spade and had half-mind to linger around Raijin so he could kidnap her the moment he could and teach her a lesson, but he resisted this temptation. He knew they were close to the Whitebeard base and with some effort, Law believed he could find the Logless Island. Pursuing Spade was therefore not as useful, especially when Spade had given them a parting gift. The Blackbeards' unawareness of their collaboration would allow Law to feign ignorance of whatever ensued between Spade and Burgess so that he could still demand Doflamingo out of Blackbeard. In the end, Spade was correct: they had different priorities.

"Captain," Ikkaku said from the corner of the room, arms crossed and gaze stern.

"What is it?"

"We should go back for her."

"That would be unwise," Law said calmly as he searched through the boxes for any buds. "Miss Spade made it a point to leave. She does not need our assistance, and has even kindly given us an opportunity to take advantage of."

"Blackbeard isn't gonna give you Doflamingo!" Ikkaku said angrily. "You know that! If we actually give Blackbeard what he wants, he's just gonna kill us."

"I agree," Bepo said with uncharacteristic severity. "I don't like Blackbeard, and Kaidou's still after us. We should keep focusing on the Whitebeard alliance—if we're close enough, I can find a Logless Island."

"Yeah, we have a polar bear!" Penguin said. "Logless Islands ain't got shit on a bear."

"What about Spade?" Ikkaku said grimly.

"She left us on her own," Law pointed out. "She wasn't going to guide us in the first place."

"Help her with Burgess and she will," Ikkaku said, determined.

"Ikkaku, I trust you, but your advice has been lacking," the captain said wryly. "You said the same thing about returning her heart, and she took off immediately."

"Because she was trying to protect us!"

Law gave a hollow laugh. "That's just naïve."

"I'm not kidding," she retorted. "Literally last night, she asked me to take you and run if things got messy today. She doesn't want us involved, I get that, but she's not out to fuck us over."

"She's manipulating you," Law snarled. "She doesn't want to burn all bridges and she knows we can be useful to her in the future—don't be a fool, Ikkaku."

"I'm not!" Ikkaku shouted, her raised voice taking everyone aback. Ikakku had always been one of Law's staunchest defenders. "I was against all of these alliances! I didn't trust Spade, and I still don't fully! All I know is that we are making a big mistake not going back for her—if Burgess kills her, you've lost one of the biggest allies you could've had. If Marco the Phoenix hears that we let Skye Spade die, he's going to kill us before we can even say the word 'alliance.'"

This was genuinely a good point. If Law showed up empty-handed with the story of leaving Spade to fend for herself, it was extremely unlikely that the Whitebeards would welcome them.

"I agree with Ikkaku. If we take Burgess," Jean Bart said solemnly, stepping up next to her, "we may be able to leverage him. Helping Spade is also beneficial."

Law grimaced. "Does everyone feel this way?"

"It was the original plan," Penguin said. "Whether Spade ditched it or not doesn't really matter. It's the right thing to do."

Law looked at his crew, who returned the stare resolutely.

"Fine," the captain said reluctantly. "We will ascend carefully and slowly. I do not want to get caught up in whatever mess Miss Spade has created with her winds. I will go alone. Everyone else will stay."

"Captain—"

"I already am against this," Law said dangerously, gray eyes flashing as he quelled the rebellion. "If I will be forced to act against my will, it'll be on my terms. Everyone else will _stay put_. I need you in the range of a Room and that's it. The moment I return, regardless of whether I have Burgess or Miss Spade, we leave immediately. Is that clear?"

His crew muttered their apologies and scuttled out of the room to enact his orders. Moments later, Law could feel the submarine rise, the unsteadiness of the waves increasing with their elevation. He breathed in deeply and ensured that his hat was snug on his head. His scalp still smarted from Spade's manhandling the night before.

"Room." A giant Room formed, Law extending its boundaries until he could envision the surface of the ocean and identified a good landing spot on Burgess's ship. "Shambles."

He teleported instantaneously to the deck of Burgess's vessel and took a second to study his surroundings. Skye Spade at sea was truly something remarkable. Burgess's ship was nearly split in half, its masts cracked and parts floating in the ocean next to it. Dozens of bodies littered the deck of the ship, mostly with the pale puffiness of the drowned, though some had their heads cracked open. Law always did find it curious that Spade focused on hand-to-hand combat when Logias never needed to. He was not in a position to criticize. She had singlehandedly taken down an entire fleet belonging to a Yonkou; Law had not necessarily doubted her, but seeing the evidence was something else.

The sky was dark and the violet lightning of Raijin flickered over the remaining two figures onboard. Spade was panting, blood splattered over her, as she leaned heavily against the ship's railing. Burgess looked like he had suffered several blows straight to the face, but Spade looked much worse for wear. The Titanic Captain advanced, a sneer crawling over his face.

"Ya little shit. Ya got nowhere to run now."

Spade extended a hand. A giant tornado burst from her palm, hitting Burgess head-on but it was only enough for him to pause. Spade dove forward in a blur. The mechanical bang that ensued when her legs hit Burgess's Armament Haki was enough to send Law staggering several steps back. When the smoke cleared, it was clear who had lost.

Burgess had grabbed Spade by the leg and was dangling her upside-down like a ragdoll.

"Fuck," she panted.

"Cocky-ass bitch," Burgess snarled. "Think you can take on _me_?!"

He threw her suddenly, and Spade went flying against what remained of the ship's mast, the blow only blunted by her swift reaction to dematerialize upon impact. She staggered to her feet, wincing.

"I ain't like the others," he declared. "I'm stronger than ya, stronger than even that ole boyfriend of yours that Captain Teach turned in!"

"For fuck's sake," muttered Spade, "every goddamn time I fight one of you, Ace comes up."

"And why not?" guffawed Burgess. "We were all there at Marineford when he died in front of ya. Snivelin', cryin' piece of shit—how someone like him could be Gol D. Roger's son is—"

Burgess broke off, howling in pain when a small cyclone appeared right in his mouth.

"Every goddamn time," Spade repeated unenthusiastically, "I get it, insulting Ace gets a rise outta me. Gets old."

"Works every time," Burgess spat, blood flecking out of his mouth. "How's it feel, Spade? Everybody knows your fuckin' weakness, all we gotta do is remind ya of how ya came all the way to Impel Down to save 'im an' he still got blown up in front of ya! What was the point of it all when all it got ya was smithereens?!"

Spade brought her hands up and Nature obeyed her—the heavens and seas met once again around them, the force of the impending hurricane so strong that Law was forced to create a small Room for safety. Luckily, neither of them noticed him and Law maneuvered carefully to higher ground where seawater sloshed less furiously. Spade was exhausted and fighting a losing battle, but Law did not intervene. He wanted to see what Hurricane did when she was cornered.

The answer was, she fought. She fought with every fiber of her being, every cell screaming to stay alive and to fight everyone else to do so while winds raged around her; it was so contrary to what Law and apparently everyone else thought about Spade, that more than a little part of her had died with Portgas D. Ace. Spade's Haki flowed and ebbed like a current, her control truly marvelous as she burst it efficiently through her limbs, strong enough to send Burgess flying into unconsciousness with one well-placed kick to his head.

Spade was supposed to lose, but she didn't. Her prediction had been correct—one-on-one, she beat Burgess.

Law stepped out of his hiding spot as Spade lorded over Burgess's fallen figure. She looked up at the sound of his approach, expression barely surprised when she noticed him.

"Why are you here?" she asked wearily.

Law ignored her. "Is he dead?"

She shook her head. "Not yet."

"Good." Law leaned down and created another Room. "Mes." He extracted Burgess's heart and held it in front of Spade, a gift that wasn't his to offer.

"It's smarter to kill him," Spade said.

"You're worried he has a Vivre card, and if Blackbeard follows it, he'll find Marco."

Spade nodded curtly.

"We will take care of his body and lead Blackbeard astray," Law said. "You can have his heart. Take it as a peace offering of sorts to Marco from me, if you please."

Spade's eyes flickered. "You're not going to force me to bring you to him?"

"I'd still like that," Law replied smoothly. "But I promised you Burgess's heart on a silver platter. So here I am. Keeping my word."

"I don't understand. What's in it for you?"

The accusation irritated him. Law did not need to be here; he did not even _want_ to be here, reminded that at the earliest opportunity, Spade had left once the playing field had evened.

"Miss Spade, you have shown an understanding toward my and Doflamingo's situation that I appreciate. I am trying to extend the same courtesy."

"So what else do you want, Trafalgar?"

"For fuck's sake, are we not past this by now?" he said irately. "I gave you your heart back, Miss Spade. I'm here when I should've left you to rot like you wanted me to. I want many things from you, but what I want more than anything is just for you to give them up on your own accord. I believe I have justified my actions more than enough. Take this gift, and make your decisions."

He held the heart out to her.

Spade looked at him with that same expression she'd had the night before, the one he'd mistaken for desire when in reality she'd decided to knock Law out and disappear. He stiffened, wary of her next move.

Spade stepped on Burgess's fallen form to close the gap between them, and before Law could say another word, she grabbed him by his collar and kissed him.

Law almost dropped Burgess's heart. Spade's lips were soft but tinged with the rusty taste of blood and saltwater; if Law had not been so desperate for this for weeks, he would've pulled back out of revulsion. Instead, he kissed her back heatedly, his mouth opening against hers. She mirrored the action, and Law slipped his tongue in her mouth. He heard her gasp slightly and almost smirked at the sound—if just a little tongue could make Spade gasp, this would be very fun indeed.

He held Burgess's heart with one hand and wrapped the other arm around Spade's waist, drawing her close so he could deepen the kiss. Spade's hands roamed his chest, sliding underneath the open jacket as they outlined his muscles, her touch bold and scorching. She was a bundle of contradictions, the sounds she made bordered virginal but her actions screamed otherwise. She grappled for Law's hips and closed any remaining gap between them. Her tongue began to dance with his, the muscle sliding into his mouth and battling for dominance. Law used his free hand to grab Spade's ass briefly before trailing it up, tucking under her shirt so he could feel the expanse of her back under one palm. He breathed in her scent, salt and cigarettes, and he wanted to devour her whole.

Somewhere above them, thunder rumbled and lightning continued to strike. Law did not want to break the mood, lest Spade decide that this was a bad idea, but he had no intention of hastily fucking her on a sinking ship. He tightened his hold around her and created a Room. In a second, he transported them and Burgess's body into the largest room of the Polar Tang, the mess hall.

"What the fuck— _whoa, Captain_ —"

Law broke apart from Spade briefly, panting harshly as he tossed Burgess's heart to the nearest crewmember, who happened to be Penguin.

"Get him in cuffs and put him in a cell," Law ordered. "Sail out now."

"A-aye, w-where to?" Penguin said, notably red as he glanced between the two of them. Spade was flushed and breathing heavily. Already her arms were curling around Law's neck and waist to reorient him to more important matters.

"The fuck do I care," Law growled right before he pushed Spade against the wall and kissed her roughly. Somewhere behind him, Penguin scuttled to follow through with his orders, but Law wasn't in the mood for an audience.

He created another Room and transported Spade and him to his private quarters, finally getting both hands free to explore as he saw fit. He gripped her ass and hoisted her up so her legs wrapped around his hips, and slammed her indecorously against the wall. Spade swore, eyes flashing, but he had no intention of hearing her complain and resumed kissing her like she was the last thing on earth to provide oxygen and sustenance all at once. Spade's hands slid up his torso, around his neck and pulled off his hat. She flung it across the room and ran both hands through his matted hair as she kissed him back fervently, mouth open, tongue thrashing.

There was the sound of a tray clattering behind him, followed by a, "S-sorry."

"Out, Bepo!" Law all but barked.

"Aye-aye…"

As the door finally closed behind Bepo, Law leaned forward and caught Spade's lower lip in between his teeth. He bit down lightly, enough to elicit a quiet hiss, and coupled the action with a very intentional thrust of his hips that caused her sounds to morph into a moan. His mouth then left hers and trailed against her cheek, tasting the salt of sweat and sea, to the angle of her jaw and lower.

As Law buried himself in her neck, Spade pressed her lips to his temple and tugged his jacket off his shoulders. He'd always caught her looking at him, as if fascinated with his chest but too careful to touch, which was a shame because Law felt fucking amazing at the moment and knew without a doubt that his relationship with Spade would've been much smoother had they just done this from the beginning. He shrugged off his jacket to the ground and proceeded to do the same to Spade's top, holding her against the wall with just his lower body as he pulled her blood-and-sweat-stained shirt over her head and made quick work of her bra as well.

Law, at his basest urges, was not a gentle lover. He liked to fuck hard and fast, efficiency being his motto because why waste time building up to one orgasm if he could come more than that? Eustass, strangely enough, had always liked to take his time, worship Law's body, but Law never saw a need for it. He knew what he liked and went for it, which was why he did not ogle at Spade's nearly naked body like any other common man.

Still, he'd always expected Spade to be inked somewhere on her torso. She was all hard lines of taut muscle and the violet of bruises from her fight with Burgess were beginning to bloom, but no other markings decorated her skin. The unexpected purity made something in Law purr—the men Spade deemed significant were ones that Law already knew of; her body held no more surprises, her heart hid no more secrets. He was free to make his mark, and he intended to make many, enough that anyone who saw Spade would know who had conquered her.

As his right hand traced up one breast to fondle, he wrapped his other arm around the small of her back and pushed her body forward so he could take her other breast into his mouth. The sound Spade made when he licked her nipple was _divine_ , a complete and unhindered whimper that matched her whole-body shudder, but it was choked off half-way, as if stopped by sheer willpower right as it left her throat.

Law grew irritated—the sounds were drawn out by him and therefore his to hear. He bit down punishingly on her hardened nipple and pinched the other at the same time; Spade's breath hitched and he heard the start of a moan, only to be killed at its origin.

Law straightened up so that they were face to face. Spade looked close to undone, color dusting her cheeks and her mouth open slightly as she leaned her head against the wall behind her and gasped for air. Her pupils were so large they swallowed the green of her irises, and as Law played with the flesh of her left breast, he could feel her heart—now in its rightful place—flutter under her skin.

"Miss Spade," he said huskily, "I want to hear you."

She looked incensed at the demand, but he trapped her nipple in between his index finger and thumb and pulled roughly.

"Fuck—" Her eyes fluttered shut as she groaned, grip on his shoulders tightening as he toyed with the brown nub slowly.

"I _made_ those sounds," he said, breath soft by her ear. "I earned them. If you hide them, I'll be upset."

"Fuck you," she snapped.

Law's lips curled into a cold smirk.

"Believe me, you will." He pressed his lips to the side of her throat where he could feel her carotid thrum with anticipation.

He dropped a hand down to her shorts and undid the button swiftly. Keeping his face close to hers so he could watch her expression, Law slid his hand underneath her underwear, rubbing her lower lips teasingly, before slowly pressing one finger into her entrance. Spade nearly convulsed against him as Law reached knuckle-deep inside her.

"Miss Spade," he said, laughing as she breathed raggedly, "you are so wet. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"That you need to move fucking faster," she said through gritted teeth, eyes squeezed shut as his finger moved inside that wet heat slowly, exploring.

"I normally do, but watching you struggle is rather fun." He pressed a second finger inside and Spade's eyes flew open, all black, and she leaned forward, body seeking his touch as she tried to thrust against him. Law held her tightly in place, controlling their pace, and rested his forehead against hers. Perspiration lined both of their skin, but the commonalities ended there. Spade was shaking with the effort to remain composed, while Law was rock-hard and aching but could do this forever if it meant seeing Spade completely break apart. He thrust his fingers in at a slow, steady pace, watching her reactions and telling quite easily that she wanted more.

"Move," she hissed.

"I take orders even less well in the bedroom," he said, voice low in warning as he brought his hand to a complete halt. Spade's legs tightened around his waist to the point where it was nearly painful, but Law simply looked at her, bemused. "Begging, on the other hand, I take very well."

"Why are you such an asshole even when we— _fuck_ —"

Law rammed a third finger in and spread them, and Spade let out a long string of helpless curses as he sank his fingers inside that heat with renewed purpose. She was tight enough that Law wondered if he was causing her pain with his quick progression, but Spade made no indication of the matter. The muscles around his fingers gradually relaxed with every intake of oxygen that had Spade's breasts heaving; he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against hers, open and messy, as her arms wrapped around his neck tightly. Law withdrew his hand from between her legs and moved backward, toward his desk, where he dropped her. Spade yelped at the impact, and when realizing where he had brought her, looked at him incredulously.

"You have a fucking bed—you have _got_ to be kidding me—"

Law grabbed her hip and spun her around so that her beautifully inked back was facing him as she was bent over the edge of the desk. In one swift motion, he pulled her shorts and underwear down her thighs and unbuckled his own pants. He leaned over her, hands gripping her hips tightly as he breathed against her ear.

"The bed can be for next time," he said, his hardened length rubbing against the cleft of her ass. "Just last night you had me in a similar position, didn't you? I want to take you like this, teach you a lesson in a way you'll remember."

He pressed his lips to the side of her neck, licking at her earlobe and taking it into his teeth. Spade struggled to lift herself up by her elbows but he leaned his weight against her back, keeping her still as he brought her hips up flushed against him. His cock rubbed against her and she shuddered with the movement. Law slowly dipped lower before he met the warmth of her entrance and surged forward without preamble. His work from before had not been pointless; she was wet and open, and Law slid in easily.

Spade moaned into the table as Law drew in and out relentlessly. He found those spots that made her entire body tremble and aimed for a different one with each thrust; Spade gripped her hands on the desk, searching for traction but finding none, instead merely crumpling the loose documents and maps that littered the surface. It was truly a sight to behold—the Hurricane bent over the edge of his desk, completely naked and vulnerable in a way likely no one alive had seen. She fought his pace fruitlessly, soon caught up in the rhythm of his thrusts and shoved back to meet his shaft with every movement. Each push elicited a soft moan that she muffled into the table. Law took the nape of her neck into his teeth and sucked, hard, but the sounds remained stifled. Vexed, he wrapped one arm around her thigh and pulled it outward, spreading her and changing the angle so that he could sink inside her deeper.

"Yes," Spade gasped as Law continued to thrust at this position, hard and swift. "Fuck, yes, _Law_."

He was so fucking hard and the sound of his name shot straight to his groin. They were both so close to completion, and all he wanted to do was thrust unimpeded until he was coming inside her, that drug-like pleasure washing over them both. Still, Spade had a lesson to learn, and teaching it would give Law a high unlike anything else because since the beginning, he had wanted to see Spade beg.

He buried himself completely inside her, and then he stilled. Spade actually slammed her palm against the table at the lack of movement, and when Law drew up slightly so that his weight was not completely oppressing her, she turned back toward him with an expression of clouded rage.

"Don't you fucking _dare_ ," she snarled.

"What?" he said, his own breathing labored but his tone light.

"Fuck you," she panted, "fucking _finish_ what you started, you jackass—"

Law began to withdraw and was pleased to hear Spade whimper with the movement. She moved her hips, trying to chase the sensation of friction but Law gripped her thigh tightly, forcing her still.

"Miss Spade," he whispered as he thrust languidly, providing some movement but not nearly enough, "I've said before, those sounds belong to me. I want to hear you."

"You _can_ hear me," she said, voice high and frustrated, "you're not deaf—"

He changed his angle abruptly and sheathed himself to the hilt inside of her, causing her to make a noise akin to a whine.

"That's better," he said. "Don't hide them. Now, tell me what you want."

"You—"

He pulled her by her braid roughly and forced her to look at him, and what a sight it was. Anger, pain, desire all mixed in that feral snarl of hers, but as he moved lazily inside her, reminding her of what she was waiting for and what she could have easily, her expression melted into something helpless and strained and wanting.

"Beg," he whispered.

"Law…"

He almost lost control at the sound.

"Beg," he repeated, voice low and threatening.

The room fell so silent that all he could hear was the ticking of the clock on the wall, Spade's weak and shallow breaths mixed with his own, the tension of their bodies so dense that Law could taste it. His body was shaking with the effort of keeping still, cock surrounded in her tight heat; he wasn't going to last, he was going to just give in and fuck her until completion because what was he waiting for—

"Please."

The word was practically a sob, completely broken and uncontrolled. Something snapped in Law; he grabbed Spade's hips and slammed inside her, and Spade unwound completely.

"Law—yes, yes, _please_ —"

He repeated the motions, quickly and urgently; Spade's entire body coiled into a tense string and she came with an obvious wave of shudders, her moans filthy and loud. Law buried his face between those sharp shoulder blades and fulfilled that longtime fantasy, taking the inked skin into his mouth and biting down hard as he fucked her through her orgasm until his movements became out-of-time. He pulled out just before he released, his come spilling between her thighs, his vision temporarily going black as he rode through the high.

The clock continued to tick, one mechanical second at a time. Law straightened up slowly and carefully detached from Spade. The action made her whimper slightly, and now that Law was no longer completely blinded by the needs of his dick, he could see why. Spade's entire body was littered in bruises, mostly from Burgess, but Law noted the purpling indentations at her hips and thighs to be his own work. He grabbed a tissue from the desk and cleaned her up slightly, then waited several seconds for her to recover as a familiar urge to smoke and perhaps eat something settled in his stomach.

"Are you all right?" he asked hoarsely.

She turned around gingerly and sat on the edge of the desk with a notable wince.

"You didn't even take off your pants?" she said, glaring at his jeans as if they'd offended her personally. "Douche."

"Glad you are still smart-mouthed despite being so submissive minutes ago," Law said lightly.

"Fuck you," she said without much force behind it. She leaned down and pulled her shorts back on. She looked around the room and made a movement to walk past him.

Law stopped her. "Where are you going?"

She looked at him, perplexed. "To get my shirt, so I can do my walk of shame with slightly more dignity."

"Walk where?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Back to my room. You don't strike me as a post-coitus cuddling type of person."

Law scoffed. "I'm not that terrible. You wanted the bed earlier, you can have it." He brought up a hand to her braid and pulled out the band keeping it in place. Slowly, he worked his fingers through the braid, loosening it until Spade's hair fell in ripples. "I said the bed was for next time anyway."

"What makes you think there's going to be a next time," she said wryly.

He smirked. "The _sounds_ you make, Miss Spade."

She colored but looked annoyed. "How do you still call me that? You sound like you're fucking your grade-school teacher."

Law gave a crooked smile and leaned down to press his lips to hers gently. "My apologies, Spade."

She kissed him back rather hesitantly for a woman who'd just begged for his touch. Law rested his hands on her hips, curiously enjoying the sensation of something so innocent.

"Thanks," she said quietly, "for coming back."

He was surprised with the sudden sincerity.

"You didn't need my help."

"It's the thought that counts," she said. She stepped on her tiptoes and placed her hands on either side of his head to kiss him on the nose. The action was so tender, so careful that Law froze. The contrast to the sex was striking; he did not know how to deal with kind feelings, especially when much of the sex had been motivated by vindictiveness.

She brushed past him and headed toward the bed. Law watched after her, for once deciding to forgo his normal compulsiveness about his bed being clean and did not mention that she really should shower. Spade looked exhausted and Law did not fault her—he had not been gentle.

"You coming?" she said as she climbed under the sheets.

"In a bit. I'm gonna go smoke."

"Ah, that sounds good," she said, voice already muted like she was two seconds from slumber. "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight, Miss Spade."

Law changed into sweatpants and left the room as Spade's breathing became deep and even. There were likely leftovers from dinner, perhaps an onigiri he could grab. When Law opened the door to the mess, he was surprised that the majority of his crew was there, crowded around the dining tables in with money pooled at the center.

"C-Captain," Bepo said, startled.

"What's going on?" Law demanded.

"We…uh…we thought you'd gone to sleep," Shachi said meekly, shifting slightly to hide the pile of money from view.

"What is this?" the captain said, voice lethal.

"We…were just betting," was the faint response.

"On?"

"When you and Spade would finally fuck," Ikkaku said, taking over the conversation because everyone else was shriveling up under Law's glare. "It was Bepo's idea because he thought he'd have an edge since he could smell it."

"Ikkaku!" whined the polar bear. "Why tell him? I lost anyway!"

"Yeah, hilariously enough," Ikkaku laughed. "Whatever, I was barely off."

"Is this why you all wanted me to go back and get her?" Law said, deadpan.

"Yeah, pretty much. I mean, all the other reasons were solid and valid too, but winner gets about a hundred thousand beli at this point so it was the main reason."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Since we left Zou," Bepo said, moping. "You're not really subtle, Captain."

Law exhaled; his crew was lucky that he was in a good and forgiving mood, or else he would've had Bepo and Ikkaku on rotating bathroom duty and night shifts for the next year.

"So who won?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"I did, Captain," came Jean Bart's deep baritone.

Law felt like he'd been stabbed. "You too, Jean Bart?"

He shrugged. "I did not really know what I was getting into when we first started the bet, but I am glad to have won."

The large swordsman looked so sincere that Law could not even be angry. In fact, there was quite literally nothing Law could be angry at the moment. He felt good, sated, and Spade was sleeping in his bed.

He had finally won his own bet, and the wait had been well worth its reward.


	11. Deep Sea

**Chapter 11: Deep Sea**

The warm body that Spade rested her head on stirred, causing her to open her eyes blearily. Ace's body heat always made her feel like she was in a sweltering sauna, but she did not mind. His arm was wrapped tightly around her shoulders, locking her protectively against his chest. Spade lifted her head, her skin sticky from sweat, and looked up to see him smiling at her.

"Morning, Skye," he yawned.

"Hey," she smiled, kissing him on the chin. "I guess we should get up. Marco should be arriving today."

"Yeah," Ace said, sitting up and pushing Spade up with him.

"I will dress more modestly today," she said primly, turning and dangling her legs off the edge of the bed. "He always gives me so much shit for distracting everyone—it's very rude."

"I think he mainly means me," said Ace mildly as he pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades. "Apparently, I have a short attention span when I get caught up with you."

"That's ridiculous. If that were true, how'd Ace of Spades ever get anything done?" she grimaced as she clipped her bra back in place and pulled a shirt over her head.

"Hard work and destiny," he answered.

"Two concepts that could not be further apart," Spade said dryly, standing up and searching their room for shorts.

Ace looked at her, surprised. "What d'you mean?"

"You seriously believe in that?" she said, somewhat incredulous. "Destiny?"

"Of course!" he said with startling sincerity. He scrambled up from the bed, hair messily falling over his face. Spade ran her hand through his hair to brush it out of the way. "You don't believe in destiny?"

"I guess not," she said.

"How?" he said, disbelieving. "You don't think you and I were destined to be together?"

"What?" she laughed. "No, Ace, that's so cheesy."

"Are you kiddin'? Our story _screams_ destiny. I found you in a random bar, on a random island. I tried to hit on you, not even recruit you! Only for you to get chased that same night and show me that not only are you a Devil's Fruit user, but you're a wind-user, which is the best match to fire."

"It wasn't totally random," she said. "I was on the run from the Marines, and the island you found me on was the smallest off the shore of a local base…"

"Still, not a super likely chance. Plus, _our names_ , Skye. We are literally Ace of Spades. Our names make a pun. It does not get better than that."

"They're not uncommon names," Spade said shortly, making a movement to exit.

Ace frowned and grabbed her by the wrist. "Am I makin' you mad?"

"No," she said irritably.

"Skye," he groaned, "don't do that thing where I say something stupid and you get mad but never tell me what I did wrong—I'm tryin' to be better but ya gotta help me out! I don't think I said anything bad just now."

"You didn't," she said, frustrated. "It's just…do you really think we're together just because fate or destiny made that happen? We're together just because we're meant to be?"

Ace blinked. "I wanna say yes but I feel like that's not the answer you're looking for."

"I get the sentiment," she said, averting her eyes to the corner of their small cabin room. "It's supposed to be sweet. But having destiny in the picture means that we're never responsible for our own choices, and I want to think that…that despite having slept with over a hundred girls before me—"

"Give or take," Ace muttered.

"You chose me to be your partner long-term," she continued, ignoring him. "And despite hating all pirates and thinking for the most part that men are stupid and incompetent…I chose you, too. But when you say that we're together because we're just meant to be, that…"

Her voice trailed off. God, Spade hated talking about her feelings, but Ace was so straightforward that he made it impossible to avoid the problem. She'd learned the hard way over the last year and a half how much Ace could badger her for the contents of her mind and now knew that talking things through made life easier in the long run. Who would've thought that Portgas D. Ace, of all people, would eventually believe in open and honest communication to build a healthy relationship?

Ace pulled her into his arms.

"It cheapens things, a little bit?" he guessed.

"Just a little," she mumbled.

He tightened his hold around her and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

"I take responsibility for you," he said. "I never thought for a second that it wasn't my choice. But I still believe in fate. I think that's what brought us together in person and then we had to choose everything beyond that. They can work together, y'know."

"Sure," she said, lifting her head and kissing him on the cheek.

"You're just humorin' me, aren't ya?"

"No, I think there's coincidence or chance and you can call that fate if you want."

"Fine," he said. "But I don't mean it just related to us, y'know. Some people were just born to do things. Like Pops. He's meant to be Pirate King."

Spade smiled. She'd never understood Ace's firm reverence for Whitebeard, but she admired it all the same.

"Not you?" she said jokingly.

Ace's face hardened and he shook his head. "I dunno if I was meant to be born at all."

Before she could ask, there was a knock on the door from one of the men, announcing that Marco had arrived. Ace's expression cleared and he led her cheerily out of the room, excited to see his best friend. Spade didn't forget that look on Ace's face, but never asked about what he'd meant. It was only right before Ace's death, when she found out that he was the son of Gol D. Roger, why Ace had been such a firm believer in the fickle thing called Fate.

And it made her believe in it even less.

* * *

The Polar Tang was deathly quiet as it glided through the seas overnight. No one was around, as most of the Heart Pirates were crammed in the mess hall earlier discussing who had won the bet, while the subjects of the bet were most likely fulfilling the objectives of said bet. Uni had declined to participate in the pool, given that he found it disrespectful to the captain, and also he did not have much money to spare on trivial things. He was saving up for a new set of scalpels; the most recent issue of the Underworld version of _Naval Medicine_ had showcased a brilliant "never rusts, never needs sharpening" kit of scalpels of varying sizes made of titanium, diamond, and Kairouseki. They were hideously expensive but extremely unique. Uni had always wondered how surgery using Kairouseki tools on a Devil's Fruit user would affect their powers beyond the immediate post-operative period. It was an interest shared with Captain Law, but being a Devil's Fruit user himself, Law was cautious with the idea of operating with seastone. Uni was certain Law would give him the money if he knew how invested his crewman was in acquiring these blades, but Uni did not want to trouble his captain with a simple and personal interest.

To earn some extra cash, Uni offered to take Shachi's shift manning the cell that currently held one of the Yonkou's Titanic Captains for one thousand beli an hour. It was a pretty hefty sum, but Shachi was one of the weaker members of the crew and was jittery at the thought of guarding a Yonkou Captain alone. Uni was not frightened and did not mind, even though it meant a twelve-hour shift. If anything, he was used to half-day shifts, having been professionally trained as a surgeon in his hometown in North Blue. He was nothing compared to his captain, the son of Flevance's most prestigious doctor, but he was qualified enough that he was Law's first assist on all surgical cases.

Uni first met Law when the Heart Pirates had started making a name for themselves in North Blue, which was saying something because Law had only been sixteen at the time. Though he had not yet earned the epithet "Surgeon of Death," rumors ran abound that the Heart Pirates were qualified in all medical specialties, which was slightly farfetched given how broad the field truly was.

It was Uni's first trauma call as an attending when the Heart Pirates had stormed the hospital he was working in. "Stormed" was perhaps not the most accurate descriptor. Law always held hospitals in reverence, and so the team had really just waltzed in to the emergency department, but the site of a horde of men in drab gray boiler suits flocking a teenager with discolored skin and gaunt shadows under his eyes felt as much of a disruption as any.

"May I help you?" Uni, the most junior attending at the time, asked them cautiously.

"I need some supplies. One of my crewmen has a bowel obstruction. I really just need some sterile materials to work with." The boy's voice was inflectionless but commanding. Uni couldn't help but shudder at the way Law's eyes looked like cesspools of cement.

"That's an emergency. You should bring him here."

Law barely blinked. "He's a polar bear."

Uni really didn't know what to say to that, but a horde of other trauma victims suddenly entered the bay (the city he was from was really rife with crime) so he'd sent Law out with the materials he'd asked and went to attend to other matters.

The truth was, Uni didn't really enjoy being a surgeon. If he'd had a chance to redo his life, he would've chosen to pursue forensic pathology, because he loved cutting things up and not having to worry about whether his patient lived or not. Sometimes, he was seized with the urge of cutting simply to learn—if he anastomosed this artery with another, what would be the ramifications? Could animal parts be used as prosthetics? Lastly, what were the structural changes that occurred on a cellular level for Devil's Fruit users? Could the power be harnessed, replicated, separated from the body itself? There were many answers Uni sought, but very few methods to do so ethically.

The night after Law had appeared in the emergency room, Uni was in the middle of a complicated case: malignant pheochromocytoma with disseminated metastases into the peritoneum. It was a rare and honestly fruitless case, but the surgical technical skills required to remove the endocrine tumor were of the highest level. The slightest disturbance of any part of the tumor could cause an immediate release of catecholamines that could lead to deathly cardiovascular complications. Uni had been delicately removing tiny yellow globs of tumor for six hours when the doors to the O.R. burst open and in waltzed a stranger, fully scrubbed and properly sterilized.

"Who the fuck are you?" Uni demanded, not recognizing the shadowed eyes that peered back at him over the surgical mask.

"We met yesterday. My name is Trafalgar Law. I'm the Captain of the Heart Pirates and I'm a surgeon. I've been searching for a first assist and your name has cropped up several times. I'd like to evaluate your skills."

"The fuck? You're a kid—how the hell would you be able to 'evaluate' my skills?"

"I'm board-certified, don't worry," Law said, ignoring the nurses and scrub technicians gaping at him. "I got an overview from one of the nurses outside about this case. Metastatic pheos are fairly rare—I'd like to see how you approach this operation."

"Get the fuck outta here," Uni said angrily.

"I don't take orders well," Law said, eyes narrowed, voice as sharp as the scalpel Uni was holding. "Know that should I extend you the offer to join my ship, you'll be deferring to me, not the other way around."

"You lil—"

The entire room was engulfed in a pale blue light, and Law snatched the scalpel out of Uni's hand. With one quick swipe to his left, the blade cut through the nearest scrub tech's body, bisecting it completely. A scream echoed through the O.R. as the tech grappled for his now separated lower body, but no blood spilled from the cut. The bisected halves fell to the ground, and the tech whimpered from his upper body.

"What the fuck?!"

"Work," Law said calmly, handing the scalpel back to Uni. "Let's see what you can do. If I'm impressed, I'll put your technician back together."

"How did you do that?"

"You are in no position to demand answers from me. Operate."

And so Uni did, cowed in the presence of Law's command. Never mind that Law was a teenager—something about him felt imposing in a way that Uni had never experienced, even from his most senior attendings. Law watched him with the concentration of a hawk stalking its prey, mostly in silence, though when Uni removed a metastasis that was dangerously close to the abdominal aorta, Law stopped him just in time from nicking the giant blood vessel.

When the surgery finally finished, almost three hours later, Law stayed true to his word and put the bisected technician back together. He was entirely unharmed. Uni closed up the incisions and was finishing tying the last superficial stitch when Law made his offer.

"My Devil's Fruit ability allows me to control anything and anyone within a given Room," he said. "I could've completed this case in less than five minutes, with likely higher accuracy. Nonetheless, your technical skills are decent enough and I hear your interests are varied." His steely eyes captured Uni's gaze. "With me involved, you can operate as you see fit, without fear of patients dying. Unless I want them to."

"You want me to join your crew?" Uni said, aghast. "Why? I just became an attending. I can start a family, have a job, earn a solid living."

Even behind the mask, Law was smirking. "Who the fuck cares about that?"

Uni became a member of the Heart Pirates that very night. He never regretted it.

* * *

Spade woke up and the room was dark. Someone was breathing deeply beside her, and a clock ticked twice with each breath.

She felt absolutely terrible, like she'd been trapped under the Polar Tang for hours and had to have the submarine rolled off her body to be freed. She was quite certain she'd woken up because she was in so much pain. Every muscle ached, especially in her back, and her head throbbed. As she sat up, she winced with the movement. There was that sharp pain between her legs that only served as a reminder that she had just let Trafalgar Law fuck her in a manner that she really shouldn't have. The way Trafalgar Law fucked could be described as many things, but gentle was not one of them.

Said man was sleeping soundly beside her, flat on his back with his arm draped loosely over her pillow. No part of his body was touching her. Spade had been correct in her assumption that he was not a cuddling kind of person; she'd been surprised that he'd offered his bed at all, given how he was angled at the very edge of the bed with determination.

She took some time to look at him. Law looked oddly peaceful when asleep, his normally furrowed brow smoothed by his dreams, his tattooed chest rising and falling with every breath. He looked like a living work of art. She was surprised he hadn't woken up with her movements.

Gingerly, Spade crawled out of bed, itching to shower. All the rooms of the Polar Tang echoed in some way, given that all walls were made of metal, so she was particularly careful to not make a sound as she made her way to Law's private bathroom. She'd always used the communal showers before, but given that she'd just had sex with the captain, she was in no mood to meet any of the rest of the Heart Pirates and answer any of their judgmental gazes.

The entirety of Law's room, with the exception of his desk, was pristine, and his bathroom was no different. It was a rectangular tiled room, with a small shower tucked in the corner and a ceramic bath seated at the right side. A private bathroom was a luxury already, but the taps on the bathtub looked like they were made of real silver. There were no garish decorations, and quite honestly the bathroom was rather austere, but the amount Law must've spent on the room was not small. Further proving this point, Spade was happy to find that unlike most pirates, Law appreciated hygiene and kept quite high-quality cleansing materials in his bathroom. They were mint-scented, a respectable, un-offensive fragrance for all genders.

She drew a bath and sank in the tub when the water was still scalding, but she did not mind. Spade felt somewhat disgusting, covered in blood, sweat, salt, and probably Law somewhere too. Feeling like he owed her, she used Law's luxury products liberally, scrubbing the dried bodily fluids off her skin and hair. The steam filled the bathroom and she allowed herself to relax a little in it as she reflected on what had just happened.

Spade had long nursed the inkling that her preference in the bedroom had changed slightly since Ace's death. Perhaps it wasn't Ace's death itself that had been the trigger, but rather her assumption of the role of Hurricane. Ace had always been more sexually experienced than she was, but the fun they had between the sheets always felt collaborative and open. In the bedroom and outside of it, Spade had always been Ace's partner and vice versa.

It was the few times she'd slept with Marco after becoming the Whitebeards' Underworld contact that Spade began to notice how she enjoyed the sex more if Marco was a bit rough with her. Rarely, when they were frustrated with each other and their situation as a whole, Marco's actions became less than delicate, and Spade _liked_ it. She liked that she could turn off her brain, could let Marco do what he wanted and feel liberated when he fucked her with complete abandon, because that's what Spade wanted too—to stop thinking, even for a brief moment, about anything and everything.

If Marco noticed, he never mentioned it. His profuse apologies after a more animalistic coupling made Spade disinclined to bring up her preferences; she knew they would bother him, and honestly, they bothered her, too. Spade had always been an argumentative, headstrong woman in a world ruled by men. What would it say about her if she liked being dominated in the sheets? Any deep self-reflection on the trait made her slightly nauseous. No one knew, and no one had to know—it wasn't like Spade would let anyone she didn't trust with her life touch her, and Marco would ignore this change in her until the day he died because acknowledging it would only make him feel more guilty about their relationship, and he had plenty of that already.

Of course, that all changed now. She just had fairly rough sex with Trafalgar Law, he had made her beg for it, and he knew she'd liked it.

Spade wanted to drown herself. What the fuck was wrong with her? The conviction to leave the Heart Pirates after recognizing the attraction she felt for their captain had disappeared the moment she'd seen him after finishing off Burgess. She honestly had not expected him to return, and seeing him there made Spade realize just how much she'd wanted him in the first place.

This was a dangerous, slippery gangplank she was attempting to traverse. Law was not someone she should turn her brain off around. She was frightened of people who thought too much, and Law thought more than anyone she knew, including herself. What was she doing, willing putting herself in his hands to abuse as he saw fit?

 _It was a one time thing_ , she told herself. But that was stupid, because Spade couldn't do one night stands and already the thought of Law's sleeping profile back in his room made her hot. It wasn't just physical. She just wasn't capable of acting purely on physical attraction.

Which meant that Law had already sunk his claws into her heart, shallow enough that she could rip them out and still survive, but deep enough that it would hurt significantly should she force the break.

 _Fuck_ , she thought. This wasn't supposed to happen.

But Spade wanted it. She wanted Law. She didn't know in what capacity and to what extent, but sleeping with him had crossed a self-drawn line that meant more. Yet, Law wasn't the same. Law was casual with his trysts and that reputation was well known. Spade did not think she was any different from Eustass Kid and even Robin—Law might've been more interested than normal because Spade had held out for longer, but now that they'd fucked, there was nothing left for him to pursue. He'd wanted to break her, and last night, he'd gotten it.

Law did not want her in whatever exclusive or romantic capacity—she was sure of it. Deluding herself in any other way would only get her hurt, or worse, killed.

Marco had always told Spade that she cared too little until she cared too much.

* * *

Two hours before Uni's shift was complete, Skye Spade wandered down the dark hall and appeared in front of the cell that Uni was guarding. She looked freshly showered and scrubbed clean, and she was wearing a loose-fitting T-shirt that was large enough to fall past her shorts. Uni wondered if the shirt belonged to the captain, but decided not to ask.

The Heart Pirate had only had one prior conversation with the somewhat legendary Spade, and that had been whether there were any more vegetables onboard. Beyond that, Uni had never felt particularly inclined to talk to her; the captain's interest in her was clear, but Uni had been one of the few who had been against the Strawhat alliance and even more against the presence of a dangerous Whitebeard affiliate on their ship. He had no intent to cross her path, for better or for worse.

Spade was respectful and got along easily with most of the Heart Pirates, but she seemed to understand Uni's distance and never made a move to bridge that gap. Having her approach him now, therefore, felt eerie.

"Has he made any noise?" Spade asked without any other greeting.

"No," Uni answered, voice quiet behind his mask. "I believe he's still out cold."

Spade nodded and made a movement to walk past him. He stretched out his arm, blocking her path.

"What do you think you're doing?" she said, green eyes narrowed, voice so soft it made Uni contain a shudder. Spade sometimes had a similar vibe to Captain Law whenever he was in a mood.

"I have not received Captain's orders regarding the prisoner," Uni said. "Until I do, no one is to see him."

"Burgess is _my_ prisoner," she said coldly. "Your captain brought him on this sub for _me_. I guarantee you, Trafalgar will have no issue."

Uni paused, but finally stepped aside. There were some battles worth fighting, but this wasn't one of them. Spade was correct. There was no reason for Law to have a problem.

He unlocked the heavy metal door and pushed it open, allowing Spade to walk in first. The sound of her footsteps resonated with dull thuds that sounded heavier than they should've been for a woman of her stature. The cell, a round, small compartment, was tucked on the lowest level of the submarine with no windows and lit only by two flickering torches. Burgess was chained to the wall with Kairouseki cuffs, his impressive profile making his cell appear even more cramped. His face was bloodied and his eyes closed, but his breathing was audible despite being shallow.

"Kairouseki was a good precaution," she said, her voice echoing in the chamber. "I didn't get the sense he could use any Devil's Fruits abilities, but it doesn't hurt to be careful."

"Of course."

"Uni," Spade said after a brief silence. "I have some questions for Burgess. I will not kill him, but he will not talk freely without some encouragement." She looked at Uni with a glint in her eyes that was indescribable. "You can step outside. This may get gruesome."

Uni felt a rush through his veins and was careful to keep his voice even as he replied.

"You will torture him?" he said casually, as if inquiring about the weather.

Spade blinked. "Of course. If that bothers you—"

"It does not in the slightest," Uni interrupted. "I was curious to see how a man of Burgess's stature would hold up under painful persuasion. If you do not mind, I would like to remain and watch."

Spade stared at him, and Uni returned her gaze squarely. Her lips curled.

"I suppose it makes sense that this crew isn't full of fuzzy cute polar bears," she said. "Fine, then, you can watch. Just don't blame me if you get sick."

Uni wouldn't dream of it.

* * *

Law woke up the next day with the excellent, satisfied feeling in his muscles that always accompanied good sex. His hips felt slightly sore from where he'd carried the bulk of Spade's weight when he'd toyed with her against the wall, and his thighs ached subtly too, but it had all been worth it. Just the thought of Spade's desperate, " _Please_ " made Law half-hard. He turned to his side, expecting to find her on his bed and ready for a morning round, but was surprised to find the bed cold and empty.

He paused, thinking. Law was a notoriously light sleeper, and it unsettled him that Spade could climb over him, out of bed, and leave the room without him waking up at all. It meant that if she'd wanted to kill him, Law could have very likely slept through his own murder.

Slightly disappointed, Law sat up and stretched. The clock read eight o'clock, which gave him pause. Law always woke up around six on his own; things just felt very off, and he briefly wondered if Spade had drugged him, before remembering just how heated and needy she'd been the night before and discarded the suspicion.

The surgeon tossed on a T-shift over his gray sweatpants and left the room to search for food and for Spade. Having the two for breakfast sounded delightful.

He was on his way to the mess when he heard a sound akin to a high, bloodcurdling scream, and he paused. The voice did not belong to anyone from his crew. Was it Spade? It didn't quite sound like her, but the thought of her being under so much duress unnerved him.

Law headed toward the dungeons, stride swift and long, and threw open the cell door that he knew held Burgess.

He was greeted by blood splattered all over the cell floor, all over Uni, who was standing impassively in the corner, and all over Spade, whose long black tresses fell freely over her face. She didn't even look at him. She had a knife in one hand and several flesh-colored pieces in her other. Burgess was whimpering, a sound uncharacteristic of a man his size, but Spade looked down on him with an expression of ice as she tossed what was clearly pieces of Burgess's skin onto the blood-soaked floor.

"Well, you made it through your fingernails without screaming," she said callously. "That's something. Skinning is always what gets people though."

"Miss Spade," Law said coolly.

"Good morning, Captain Trafalgar."

"You _bitch_ ," Burgess said with venomous loathing as he saw Law. "You teamed up with _this bitch_ to betray us?"

"You need to come up with better insults," Spade said dryly. "If you call us both bitches, how am I gonna know who you're complaining about?"

Something in Law felt like it was on fire and he tried very hard to temper it. There were many things he'd found attractive about Spade—her control, her acidity, her sharp tongue and her strength—but seeing Spade so cold while torturing someone was on an entirely different level. Law had spent his entire life believing that he was the only one this conflicted, the only one who struggled between wanting to do good while loving evil just a little too much to be normal. Whether it was Doflamingo who had imprinted into him or it had existed in Law from birth just didn't matter. Seeing Spade, who tried so very hard to fight for everything she believed was right and for the people she loved, exhibiting that infamous control while flaying Burgess was so fucked up and disgusting but so _beautiful_.

"Miss Spade," Law said again.

"If you're gonna make me stop, the answer is no," she said in that same detached voice. "I'm getting good info. They broke out Doflamingo so he can teach them how to make a factory like the SMILE one. Doflamingo's request in return was you."

"That's not surprising," he replied. "I wasn't going to stop you. I merely wanted to say that skinning is rather…rudimentary."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "It's working."

Law gave a cruel smirk. "Miss Spade. Your Marine background is showing. Marines have always been so painfully uncreative in this regard."

"You've never been in Impel Down," she said pointedly.

"True," he yielded, "but there is no one as skilled at torture as Doflamingo is. I learned from the best."

Law created a Room that engulfed the cell, and with one casual swipe, Burgess was screaming so loudly that Spade covered her ears. All of Burgess's remaining skin seemed to levitate millimeters off the rest of his body, only to resume their initial position once the scream died down.

"The Ope Ope no Mi introduces an entirely different world of torture," Law said, "especially when I can put back the pieces I've broken."

He found Spade watching him, her pupils dilated.

"Mister Burgess," Law said over the wheezes of the Titanic Captain, "understand that what you felt was an appetizer of what I'm truly capable of. I will return later today with some questions. Think wisely of how you want to answer them."

Law extended a hand to Spade. "I don't believe you've had breakfast yet."

She looked like she wanted to take his hand and devour him. Instead, she brushed past him with a whisper.

"I'll be waiting in your room."

* * *

Law did not take long to get breakfast. If anything, Spade was fairly certain he'd just gone to give orders to the rest of his team not to disturb them because she'd barely stepped into the shower when Law appeared behind her, clothes already discarded, and began mouthing at her neck. She leaned into him, her body hot and craving his touch that he seemed only eager to give. His hands slid over her hips, down her thighs, his dark skin tracing the bruises he'd left only hours earlier, as he pulled her so tightly against him she felt like she would melt into him. She had reservations about this, about him, about everything, but she did not dwell on them because all she could think of was this incredible desire to fuck Law after seeing how such a little action on his part could make a man like Burgess scream.

Spade turned her head so her mouth could find his and they kissed, tongues toying with each other, while the hot water of the shower poured over both their faces. She brought her arm behind her, around his neck, and pressed into his mouth deeper. Every part of her wanted to sink into him, every surface of her skin wanted to be touching his, and more than anything she wanted him to be buried deep inside her. This kind of desire, uncontrollable and dangerous, was new to her—everything in her mind screamed to back away but she couldn't, she didn't want to. Law's presence was a drug that, after a one-time use, now exposed the extent of its addictive properties. Spade was already beginning to make obscene noises as Law's fingers found way between her legs and made quick work of her remaining resistances.

"You learn quickly," he said, his other hand holding her tightly against him. "No more hiding those sounds, are you?"

"Don't tease," she said, teeth gritted and face flushed, as the fingers inside her pumped slowly.

"Don't order," he countered, quickening his pace. "That's for me to do."

"Law," she whispered. She felt his teeth sink into her shoulder and knew that the sound of his name in that tone, her own _begging tone_ , made him insane. So she did it again. " _Law_."

The bite into her shoulder became almost painful and Spade almost screamed as three of Law's fingers thrust into her violently and she was close, God this was going to be such a fast orgasm and it was just going to be from his fingers, just a little more of that pain overlapping pleasure and she would be there—

He pulled out and Spade collapsed back onto him, gasping for air and ready to kill him.

"You fucking asshole."

"You're not in the right position to be making insults," he said. He brought his hand, covered in her fluids mixed with the scalding shower water, up to her lips. "Suck."

"You—"

He shoved two of his fingers in her mouth, almost causing her to gag, as his other hand played with her breasts. Spade could've bitten him, and a part of her really wanted to, but the majority of her could only think of how she'd wanted Law's fingers in her mouth since that first night. As she obediently licked away her own essence off his fingers, her tongue trailed over the calluses of his digits.

"I know what you're trying to do," he said, voice soft by her ear as she continued to suck. "Calling my name, trying to set the pace on your own. Don't be foolish, Spade." He pinched her nipple and Spade moaned, the sound muffled against his fingers. "I'll get you off. It'll just be on my terms. Don't try something like that again."

He took his fingers out of her mouth and used both hands to grope her breasts briefly before sliding them down the rest of her body. She could feel his cock pressed between her back and his stomach; he was already so hard, she had to be impressed that he could remain this levelheaded.

"Bend over," he ordered. "Hands against the wall."

She didn't resist and did so, palms trying to find traction against the slippery tiles. Law did not waste time—he was buried to the hilt in her in a matter of seconds, with no preparation, no adjustment. Spade whimpered, a searing pain shooting her insides, rebelling in protest as her legs shook with the effort to keep this position. She was still wildly sore from the night before, still injured from her fight, but stopping seemed out of the question. Law's stiff prick moved with rigid purpose and Spade could only be grateful that he did not appear to be interested in taking it slow. She felt the pressure in her lower abdomen build with each thrust, as the ache between her legs melted into an undeniable pleasure. She gripped the wall for purchase and found none. The water from the shower caused her to slip and almost fall over, had Law not been supporting her hips. At her loss of stability, he pulled out and turned her around so her back was against the wall.

It was not unexpected that Law preferred to fuck so impersonally. At the sight of his face, Spade realized that neither of them had seen each other's expressions as they'd come the night before. She was certain Law would've liked to keep it that way, being a man who had such limited emotional expressions in the first place. She didn't mind. It made sense to her, confirmed that whatever this was for her, Law saw it just as sex. There was no grander connection, nothing that he dwelled on. If it was just that for him, then things remained simple and whatever delicate, immature feelings she had for him could be managed simply because they were not reciprocated.

Much to her surprise, instead of moving them out of the shower onto the bed where he could take her on all fours, Law rather gently lifted her up so that her legs were wrapped around his waist. He entered her again, this time slowly, carefully, and Spade leaned her forehead against his and buried her hands in his wet hair as Law took her indolently.

Her shallow breaths mingled with his and she let herself stop thinking about anything beyond the climbing pleasure inundating her, the stability of Law's lean body supporting her weight, the heat of the shower as the bathroom fogged. Law looked incredible like this, hair soaked, breath ragged and expression focused on her and only her; his gray eyes were half-lidded and he looked mesmerized with her. Their gazes were locked, which shouldn't have been as discomforting as Spade found it to be, but she did not avert her eyes.

It was Law who broke the intimate contact first, when he leaned up and pressed his mouth open against hers. His hands on her waist tightened and the pace of his thrusts began to climb. Spade winced with the sudden change but did not stop him, feeling her lower body clench as Law plunged into her deep. A broken moan sounded through the bathroom and Spade realized it was her only as the blinding wave of pleasure dulled into an afterglow. Law's rhythm became irregular and Spade, dazed in the oversensitivity of her orgasm, watched his face as he reached his peak and fell over it. He kissed her as he sheathed himself one last time and the heat of his seed bloomed inside of her.

Law had the face of an innocent man only when he slept and when he came.

The pitter-patter of the shower followed as both of them caught their breaths. Law, movements delicate, pulled out of her while supporting her weight carefully with his arms before bringing her down onto her feet. She staggered slightly, but he trapped her between his body and the wall, preventing her from falling over. They looked at each other, uncertain.

She felt it. Whatever they had, chemistry, connection, whatever sentimental thing it could be called—she felt it. It was dangerous and stupid and they'd just fucked each other and watched each other come like they were intimate with each other, like they were some ridiculous couple _in love._ That was too far. Law was on the wrong side of morality if Spade was looking for a partner; she needed someone she could trust to always do what was right, what was good, because if she fell off the deep end of her own thoughts, she needed someone who could pull her back.

Law kissed her again, tenderly, in the direction that Spade knew she was supposed to run away from. This didn't mean anything to him. Spade was in her own head, twisted in knots that couldn't be undone, while Law was likely still trapped in the pleasant exhilaration of his orgasm. They were not on the same page, and she pulled away from his kiss, upset and unable to verbalize why. He chased after her, teeth catching her lower lip and sucking as his hands roamed her body like he was mapping territory he was comfortable with.

She broke it off by pushing against his chest. He gazed down at her, expression dark and questioning of the rejection.

"We should get out of the shower," she muttered. "We're wasting water."

Law nodded, expression clearing with this practical excuse, and turned the knob off, leaving both of them dripping wet. He guided her into the bedroom, where he located two clean towels and tossed one over to her. As they dried themselves off, Law spoke, his voice husky.

"Spade. What do you want from Burgess?"

She looked at him, startled by the question. In retrospect, she shouldn't have thought Law was as simple as other men. He had clearly been thinking about something other than sex, or perhaps at the same time. Whatever the reason, she welcomed it. Better to talk about work and business than to discuss feelings and to have Law comment on how inexplicably submissive she was when he handled her.

"Anything," she said honestly. "Where Blackbeard's ships are, why they attacked the Revolutionary Army, who do they have fighting for them…"

"Did he say how they'd broken Doflamingo out of Impel Down?" Law asked as he pulled on a pair of ripped jeans.

"Yeah," she said, her tone practiced and neutral. She had suspected her old mentor's involvement since Laffitte's not-so-subtle hint, but it made Burgess's confirmation no easier to swallow. "They had Aokiji."

Law looked stunned. "The ex-Admiral?"

"Yeah, there have been rumors in the Underworld that Kuzan joined Blackbeard," Spade said. "It's just unfortunate to hear it for sure."

He grimaced. "That's a huge gain for Blackbeard."

"I know."

Law looked at her appraisingly. "You were Kuzan's student, weren't you?"

She nodded curtly. "He disowned me after I deserted though. Don't forget he was right there at my execution, waiting to do the deed himself."

"Seems a bit hypocritical of him now that he's left the Marines too."

"I'm sure he doesn't see it that way," she said, making sure she sounded resentful. Guarding Marco from strangers was one thing, but her affiliation with the Whitebeards was obvious and understandable. Very few knew that Aokiji had been the reason she'd even gotten off that executioner's platform in the first place. She would go to the grave before letting anyone know just how frequently she was in contact with the ex-Admiral, and that he was in Blackbeard's ranks by their agreement.

Seeing that she was just wrapped in a towel, Law dug into his drawers and handed her a hoodie and pair of sweatpants.

"I have my own clothes, Trafalgar. I don't want to look like your whore."

He frowned. "That wasn't my intention. Plus, no one on this ship thinks like that."

"Spoken like a true man," she scoffed. " _Everyone_ thinks like that. As a woman, sleeping with you reduces my credibility dramatically."

"I don't select my crewmembers like that," Law said coldly. "Whatever dynamic that occurs behind closed doors remains there—judgment for sexual activity is something that is stamped out the moment they step aboard the Polar Tang."

"That seems unlikely, especially when you've made it a rule not to sleep with your crewmembers."

"That's different," he said, stepping over toward her with clothes in hand. "I'm their captain, so there's a power dynamic there. I'd never be able to tease out if I'm forcing anyone to do something against their will, even if they said it was consensual."

"And you're not forcing me?" she said dryly as he pulled his shirt over her head.

"I'm trying to prevent you from getting a cold," he said. "And if you mean sex, both times have been initiated by you."

Spade didn't answer and let Law dress her. He was patient and gentle, tugging the towel off her body as he let the hoodie fall past her waist.

"Arms in the sleeves," he said, amused as she glared at him from beneath the hood. "Do you want me to put on your pants, too?"

"I got it," she said shortly, appropriately dressing herself in the mustard-colored shirt. "This hoodie is hideous."

"On the contrary, I like the sign of my Jolly Roger on you."

Law was such a contradiction—he could go from business-like and professional to teasing and flirtatious in a matter of minutes. Perhaps it was because he'd just gotten laid.

Or perhaps it was because he was easing up around her too.

Spade brushed aside the thought, even as Law pulled the hood off her wet hair and bent down to kiss her. She let him because she enjoyed it, and enjoyed that Law being careful with her even though it was a measly whim only she entertained. Sensing that she was responding encouragingly, Law brought his hands around her waist and held her against his bare chest, the sound of his heartbeat reassuring against her own.

"I have to say," he murmured against her lips, "that being capable of torture is a plus in my books."

"You really a creepy asshole," she said.

Law chuckled. "You hardly have room to talk."

"I don't enjoy it," she said warningly.

Law's eyes darkened. "Really? The look in your eyes when you were skinning Burgess said otherwise." Her breath hitched as Law mouthed at her jawline. "It's not a bad thing, Spade, as long as you can control it."

"Like you can?" she whispered, hating how easily her body responded to his touch.

"Even I slip up sometimes if I get angry. But yes, I'm largely very controlled. So tell me what you want from Burgess, Spade, and I'll find out for you."

She stepped out of his reach.

"Everything," she said. "Anything and everything, and you can tell Marco what you find in person."

Law's eyes flickered. "You're bringing me to him?"

"I will," she relented. "Just you, though. We need the rest of your crew to distract from Blackbeard if they're following Burgess's Vivre card."

"You want me to walk into Whitebeard territory alone?" he said. "Do you take me for a fool, Miss Spade?"

"Oh, we're back to fucking your grade-school teacher," she said, smile wry. "Now that the intimacy's gone, we're back to normal, aren't we?"

Law slid his hand around her jaw. "This is the way things should've been from the beginning, Miss Spade. You did not need to resist for so long."

"Sleeping with you took trust," she answered calmly. "If you want to meet Marco, you'll need to trust me too."

Law looked hesitant, and because Spade was feeling a conglomerate of conflicting emotions and could not make up her mind, she took his hand in hers. She realized it now, that she had always liked Law's hands, tattooed and all, and that this was her way of showing comfort when he seemed so resistant to anything sentimental otherwise. It was normal for Law to be cautious—smart, even. But Marco would not hurt him if he were Spade's guest, and every other Whitebeard deferred to Marco, no matter how much they resented Spade.

"Very well," Law said thinly. "I am putting my life in your hands, as unwise as that may be."

"I'm offended. It's not like you literally had my heart in your hands just days ago."

"True," he smirked. "I suppose it's back in its rightful place now."

It was, beating evenly at a regular rate and rhythm inside her ribcage. It was not in Law's hands, where the slightest squeeze could cause catastrophic pain.

What a fool she was, to think that she was free.


	12. Surfacing

**Chapter 12** : **Surfacing**

 _Back tomorrow with guests_.

Spade's decoded message was both incredible cryptic and loaded. Marco wasn't entirely sure how to prepare. Bringing anyone to the Whitebeard base meant either Spade trusted her guests completely or she was being forced to bring them here. Even if she was being held against her will, Marco did not think she would actually lead them to the Whitebeard base. She held Marco in too high regard.

He had not heard from her in several weeks now and had no idea who she was traveling with. Underworld rumors placed her with the Strawhats, but fighting Big Mom seemed unlike Spade. Perhaps all that information was false, and Spade was actually bringing the Strawhats with her. Marco doubted the Strawhats held any ill will against him, considering that the Whitebeards had saved Luffy after the Marineford battle, but one could never be sure with the volatile state of affairs.

Either way, Marco decided to play it safe, sending half of his high-ranking officials out to sea aboard the Moby Dick so if in case of emergency, half the force could either flank the battle or escape as needed. Regardless, less was better when it came to Spade's visits; the constant distrust between Marco's men and the person who many liked to call his woman always gave him a headache.

His relationship with Spade was difficult to explain. They had been good friends since Whitebeard absorbed the Spade Pirates, and Marco had a minor role in making Ace and Spade into a couple in the first place. Of course, their relationship had shifted to be less platonic after Ace's death. The credit (or blame, depending on how Marco was feeling that day) for this change really fell on him. Spade had been the best support that Marco could've asked for during those dark days, from drinking buddy to fuck buddy to everything in between. Her clearheaded approach to navigating the weeks following Ace's death gave Marco enough stability to assume command of the rest of the Whitebeards, and for that, Marco was eternally grateful.

Still, when Marco was being objective, he recognized their relationship to be nothing less than scandalous. He was Ace's best friend, Spade was Ace's lover, and the two of them had slept together literally three days after Ace's death. It looked bad, and truthfully, Marco felt terrible about it. Spade was surprisingly less perturbed by how things appeared, which was impressive because his men directed the majority of their antagonism toward her. The constant judgment irritated her, but Spade had become that controlled ball of pent-up energy shortly after she became the Hurricane and did not let the frustration show. She made her reports calmly, listened quietly during meetings, and had only lost her temper once over the last two years. This one incident had resulted in one of the vice commanders losing the majority of his teeth and sporting bruised testicles and a beaten ego to boot, sending the message that Spade did indeed have a limited tolerance of the shit said about her.

Spade was one of Marco's closest confidants, and everyone knew that his faith in her was unbreakable despite that Spade's methods of attaining information were unorthodox at best. Nonetheless, he attempted to make her visits as transparent as he could. Spade despised the open meetings because it always led to questions that she did not feel inclined to answer, which made the men trust her even less. Still, Marco did his best to make her visits easier if he could. He sent people who bothered Spade most on missions before she arrived, gave her a separate room in the base, and honestly did not initiate any sexual contact unless he was really frustrated. Spade's room was essentially an office; he'd encourage her to sleep in it, if only to find her minutes later asleep in his own bed. He never really protested.

They never labeled it. Spade didn't care who else he slept with as long as they weren't going to kill him afterward, and Marco knew Spade would rather die than let anyone else touch her. If she found someone else, Marco believed he'd be happy for her as long as they could give her what he couldn't.

As much as he loved Spade, all of the Yonkou did not have permanent partners for a reason. It was stupid to publicly announce a target for all enemies to hone in on, and Marco simply did not have time or luxury for stupidity.

* * *

"We need to talk," Spade said.

Law continued tracing the ink on Spade's shoulder blades as he murmured an incoherent response. He had spent the majority of the last several days either in bed with Spade or in the torture chamber with Burgess, and the activities he was occupied with made him very relaxed. Spade's statement sounded like she wanted to discuss important matters, but Law honestly wasn't in the mood. He pressed his lips right onto the center of her back, on the crossed out S of her tattoo, and she shivered.

"Law," she said sharply as she sat up, holding the sheets to guard her nudity.

"What is it?"

"We'll be arriving tomorrow," she said, looking down at him. "We need to talk about some things."

Law sat up with her. The days since Spade's fight with Burgess had almost felt like a vacation. He was pleased that she did not bother trying to make the sex a one-time thing, and the lack of fighting made Law enjoy her company. Without their previous distrust, their relationship had become almost easy, between the sex and the comfort of confidence. Law could interact with her in a way that was different from his crewmembers. Not being Spade's captain meant that they could discuss matters as equals, which Law found startlingly liberating.

If Law was truly being honest, he was starting to think of Spade as a friend.

Unfortunately, Spade's tone now made him think that this sentiment was not shared. The looming prospect of meeting the Whitebeards reminded him exactly where Spade's loyalty lied. When it came to Marco, Spade became intractable.

"What exactly do you have in mind?" he asked smoothly.

Spade let out a breath and ran a hand through her hair, the strands falling elegantly down her bare shoulders. It was clear that she had been thinking about something serious for a while now, which Law found somewhat offensive given they'd spent all their time after lunch back in bed.

"First, I'm only bringing you to Marco," she said. "You're making the case for the Alliance on your own. I'm still against that, and I'll make my case against it. The final decision will be up to Marco."

"Irritating as that is, I thought as much," Law said.

Spade nodded. "Good. Second, I'd prefer if you keep whatever it is we're doing to yourself."

Law raised his eyebrows. "We're fucking, Spade. It's what adults do. There's nothing more to it."

Her eyes glinted, but she nodded again.

"I get that," she said tersely. "But again, you're showing an astonishing lack of consideration for the optics. People will think my judgment has been compromised and I'm bringing you to Marco because you've somehow seduced me."

"That's actually rather ironic," Law chuckled, "because it does seem like that to me. You only consented to bring me to Marco after we slept together."

"Do you want to talk or not," she said coolly.

"I do," he said, toying with her hair. "I'm merely kidding, Spade. Lighten up."

"You're the last person in the world who gets to tell me to lighten up," she muttered.

"Rude. Our bedroom activities will be kept to myself. Anything else?"

Spade's lips pursed, and it was clear the next topic of discussion was something she did not want to share.

"There is a reason I am not a Whitebeard pirate," she said. "I'm just an affiliate. The atmosphere between the Whitebeards and me…it may not be what you'd expect."

Law's brow furrowed. "More hostile, you mean?"

"Yes. Only the commanders know I'm Hurricane, but everyone has a general idea that I do some shady things with the Underworld. They think that dirties the Whitebeard reputation," she said lightly. "So don't be surprised if…if things get a bit heated tomorrow. And don't be surprised when I don't fight back. Just focus on what you're there to accomplish and ignore the rest of the noise."

This advice confused Law. He leaned against his headboard and looked at her intently.

"I thought they were your friends," he said.

"Marco is," she said. "Some of the commanders and I are friendly. Some of the others…not so much. It doesn't really matter. As long as Marco trusts me, they can't touch me. And as long as you don't do anything stupid, I can protect you."

"I do not need that from you," he said thinly.

Spade smirked. "Any Whitebeard commander could destroy your crew on their own, Law. Don't be arrogant."

"I do not appreciate being treated delicately."

"Neither do I," she said.

"I know," he smirked.

Spade scoffed and looked away from him, her deliberations clearly wandering elsewhere. She was beginning to retreat into herself again, to that place in the back of her mind where she thought too much. Law understood the feeling, but it irritated him to see her thoughts occupied on something other than him. It was petty of him, but it bothered him all the same.

"I do not understand why so few people seem to understand the value of an Underworld connection," he stated. "It seems like a silly thing to resent you for."

"They resent me for more than that," Spade said under her breath.

"What do you mean?"

She looked startled, as if she was surprised the words had left her mouth in the first place.

"It's nothing," she said with a slight shake of her head. "Nothing you need to be concerned about."

"All information at this point is helpful to me, Spade."

"It was about me and Ace," she said again, her tone now edgy. "Nothing that matters to you."

Law surveyed her pensively. She was looking away from him, but the muscles in her back that Law had worked so hard to loosen were now tense again. Contrary to what Law had been trying to do, Spade's contemplations seemed to be escaping further and further away from him. He was reminded of that time on the crow's nest, when Spade had woken up from a dream that had certainly contained Portgas D. Ace. She'd been distressed then, but Law had not offered any words of comfort at the time. She was not a friend or a crewmember.

Did that rule still hold now? Law would not describe it as affection, but whatever he felt for Spade was surely closer to friend than it was to enemy.

The words fell out of his mouth before he could reflect on its ramifications.

"Tell me," he said.

"I told you," she said, voice biting, "it's not something you'd care about."

"I care," he said quietly. "It's bothering you, so I care."

Spade turned around to look at him, incredulity lining her face. Law held her gaze levelly, though he could feel his own heartbeat hasten. What had he just done? He had just verbalized that he cared—that was a terribly foolish move on his part. He enjoyed Spade in his bed, but the dangerous part was that he liked her out of it too. Spade had always been cagey with her emotions, occasionally showing a warm kindness that always took Law by surprise, only to retreat back into that impersonal tower of control just as quickly. Law knew Spade felt _something_ for him, or else she wouldn't have consented to sleeping with him, but never had she verbalized that she _cared_ for him.

Spade turned fully and climbed over his body to kiss him. Relief flooded him, only to be just as quickly supplanted by wariness; was she toying with him? Did she think she could use this stupid expression of sentiment against him in the future, so she was encouraging it now?

Law hated his pessimism sometimes. It made interacting with people like Strawhat Luffy a chore—Luffy was so simple-minded that he never considered the effect his words had on people around him. Law second-guessed everything, which protected him but also prevented him from ever accepting anyone's gentleness at face value. He let himself relish the sensation of Spade's lips for mere seconds before a cold caution replaced it, and he kissed her back only dutifully.

"So you are capable of being nice to me," she said when she broke away from him. "I was beginning to think that the only thing you liked me for was the sex, and you're far from nice to me in that regard."

"I do only what I believe you'll like, Spade. Compared to how I treat many others, I have been quite nice to you."

She snorted. "The bar is so low for your kindness."

She lied down next to him, her head resting on his shoulder as she wrapped one arm around his chest. Law truly was not a cuddly person, and he had always been rather inconsiderate in his aftercare of his partners. He let Spade do what she wanted though, as a testament to his niceness.

"I wasn't even with Ace the year leading up to his death," she said after a brief silence, her breath tickling his skin. She traced the wings of his heart tattoo with her index finger. "We'd been together for a little over two years, but I always kept a fairly low profile compared to him because I didn't want the Navy to find me. Unfortunately, Bartholomew Kuma found us one day and nearly killed us. I left Ace after that because I thought being close to him was too dangerous, and Ace of Spades broke apart. I did…I did what I thought was right. But a lot of the Whitebeard men think it's too convenient that I suddenly resumed this position of being Ace's partner only after he died and became close to the high-ranking Whitebeard officials when I hadn't even stuck with Ace through that rough patch."

Spade's voice had gotten progressively softer with each subsequent word, and she halted frequently after each sentence, as if she expected Law to interrupt her. Now, she stopped completely, letting the mechanical tick-tock of the clock fill in the gap. She seemed completely gone from him now, trapped in a world that Law did not know.

He had never met Portgas D. Ace, and he had barely been at the Battle of Marineford at all. He'd heard stories, had seen the broadcasts of that day, but listening to Spade now, it struck him just how far apart he and Spade truly were. Law had first seen Spade many years ago, on Den-Den Mushi screens and in her bounty poster following the Summit War, and had followed her as Hurricane through the years, but it seemed that all he'd been chasing was a flitting presence, almost a figment of imagination twisted with legend. The Skye Spade curled against his arm now, speaking of people and events that Law could not even fathom, was just as distant.

The picture just didn't fit. Law had difficulty imagining a young Spade who was young and emotional. He felt like the one he knew was someone else, but it was hard to decipher just which version of her was truly real.

"And you agree with them?" Law said finally.

"I don't blame them," she said quietly. "It makes sense. I shouldn't have left him in the first place. I wouldn't have let him go chase Blackbeard if I'd been with him."

Something in Law twisted, not enough to cause him pain, but enough to be uncomfortable. He wanted to push Spade off the bed, declare that in fact, he did not care for whatever was bothering her, that she was right and the only thing he liked was the sex. All the emotional baggage that she came with was not his responsibility, and he regretted ever opening up the door to this discussion. He did not want to hear about Portgas D. Ace and all the regrets Spade had about him because Law did not _care_ , he was not competing with a dead man who was supposedly so perfect for Spade that their names made a fucking pun.

Yet, Law did not chase her away. He was in no position to be cold and callous, especially when Spade had shown mercy to him multiple times when it came to Doflamingo. She avoided that particular wound of Law's with considerate purpose, and the only times she'd aimed for it were when Law had been aggressively cruel in his own way. Even then, when push came to shove, Spade had told Law about Doflamingo's escape from Impel Down, had seen through his greatest fear of being the same as his old captain.

Law had no intention of embarking on that road of fights and fury again, not when whatever they shared now was so tranquil.

He took a deep breath. "It wasn't your fault. There were so many more variables to Portgas D. Ace's execution that were beyond anyone's singular control. All the cards happened to line up and…it just happened."

Contrary to what Law's intent, this response seemed to only make Spade angry.

"What, so it couldn't have been prevented?" she said scathingly, pulling away from him to sit up and glare down at him. "Ace was meant to die anyway, so I just shouldn't feel bad about it?"

"That's not what I meant," he said steadily. "I merely meant that there is no point feeling guilty about something beyond your control. I never said that he was meant to die."

Though sometimes, Law felt otherwise. The significance of the initial D. that he shared with Luffy and also Ace was not lost on him. Both Luffy and Law had proved that they were meant to be large players in this grand wheel of Fate, whether as pursuers of the One Piece or as god-slayers in the meantime. Ace as the son of Gol D. Roger had clearly inherited the initial, but in many ways, his death had served as a greater catalyst to the turning cogs more than his life ever had.

These were not thoughts that Law was about to voice aloud, given that he seemed to be skating on thin ice with Spade.

"Spade," he said calmly, tugging her gently by the wrist. She resisted him, but only slightly. With one firm pull, she collapsed back against his chest, and Law began to work his hand through her hair in what he imagined to be a reassuring manner.

"Sometimes," he said, "being loved is as great a burden as loving itself."

"Don't feed me riddles, Law," she said shortly.

He exhaled, careful to keep his temper in check. "People expect that if someone sacrifices their life for you, you are supposed to feel eternally grateful and indebted to them. But when Corazon died for me, I felt none of those things. I was angry that he believed his life was somehow worth less than my measly one. I was a child who, when given a death sentence, decided that I just wanted to destroy everyone around me too. Why would a genuinely good man die for someone as worthless as me?"

"After he died, every action I did was a testament to his sacrifice," Law continued. "My Devil's Fruit, the name of my crew, its insignia, my lifelong goal of destroying Doflamingo…every thing I have accomplished in life belongs to Corazon because of his choice. It seems glorious, of course, being immortalized by the actions of someone else. But people don't consider just how sometimes…it's not like I ever asked for it. I didn't expect it from him. The decision to die for me, because he loved me, was his and his alone. But the one who must live with those consequences is me."

He paused here, waiting for Spade to say something, but she failed him. She was listening and was not antagonistic, at least, for she remained in his hold and allowed him to continue massaging her scalp.

"I suppose my point is," Law murmured, "that while the circumstances of Portgas D. Ace's execution were orchestrated by the Marines and guided by his heritage, the means of his death was his choice. He died for Strawhat. The ones that survive him, from Strawhat to you to the rest of the Whitebeards, they're the ones who have to navigate what he's left behind. I suppose that's what I mean when I say it's pointless to feel guilty, when you are the one left with the shambles."

A comfortable quiet ensued after Law's words as he pushed down the bile in his throat that rose with the vulnerability. In so many strange ways, Spade and he covered ground much faster than anyone else. He doubted Spade spoke to many about her coping with Ace's death, while Law breathed Corazon's name to fewer people than the number of fingers he had. But what Spade had shared were clearly thoughts she'd locked up so tightly in herself that Law almost felt obligated to return the gesture, if at least to assuage whatever it was that troubled Spade so greatly.

Spade suddenly shifted so that she was sitting on top of him, straddling him. She kissed him at the corner of his mouth and Law held still, attempting to gauge Spade's expression and finding it irritatingly neutral. She noticed his lack of response and kissed him again, this time properly and firmly, her tongue seeking to part his lips and enter his mouth. He allowed it, if not slightly reluctantly, but the resistance fell apart as Spade deepened the kiss, the warm muscle in his mouth exploring fully. Her hands rested on his shoulders as she gave a purposeful roll of her hips over his, and Law's cock immediately took notice. She repeated the movement several times, each brush of her heat causing his shaft to perk with more interest, and soon Law was pulling away from her kiss to groan as he leaned against the headboard.

"You're usually the one in control," she said, her fingers trailing down his chest and brushing his nipples, "so you almost always take me on my hands and knees. This is a new position for us."

"You're mistaken if you think being on top of me will give you control," he said, amused.

"I guess we'll see."

She pinched his right nipple none-too-gently and Law hissed, hips involuntarily bucking upward. Spade smiled and trailed her right hand down his body to his already fully hard dick, taking the length into her grip.

"You can be so oddly kind sometimes," she said, sliding her palm up and down slowly. "It's really quite sweet."

"That's not a term," he said, breathing difficultly as she toyed with the head of his cock, her thumb teasing its underside, "I want associated with me."

"Too bad," she smiled. "It merits its rewards, you know. I want to get you off."

"How generous of you," he panted, back arching as he pressed further into her palm.

She leaned down so their foreheads were touching. Law's skin was already veiled with a thin layer of sweat; Spade's movements were reminiscent of his fantasies, firm and purposeful. It did not take much deduction to know what Law liked, and Spade applied this knowledge well, with gradually quickening strokes that grew rougher as her palm became slick with his precum. Law felt his eyes flutter shut, welcoming the dark as his body obeyed Spade's touch.

She let go of his shaft and grabbed his balls instead, causing Law to let out a moan.

"Oh, that's new," she said, and Law could hear the grin in her voice. "I like that."

He felt her kiss him and opened his mouth willingly, welcoming her tongue as he brought his hands to her hips. He pulled her upward slightly, suggesting that he wanted her seated on his dick, but Spade resisted the movement.

"Not this time," she said. "Eyes open, Law."

He frowned and kept his eyes shut determinedly. "What for?"

"Just want to watch your expression," she said casually, as if she wasn't currently massaging his balls deftly. "Open, Law."

"I don't take—"

"Orders, yes, I know," she said impatiently. "I can make you though."

He smirked. "Please try your hardest."

She scoffed at his arrogance and her hand resumed its attention to his shaft, all precautions tossed in the wind as she gripped him roughly and pumped him. Law hissed in surprise, hips bucking out of his control as he chased after the sensation, and she gave him a closed fist to fuck against. He thrust against her as he breathed raggedly, body betraying his control.

Her fingers slid over his slippery erection, her index finger trailing the wet slit lining the shaft with the barest edge of her nail. Law bit back a moan, his nerve endings searing with sensitivity bordering discomfort but trumped by pleasure. He was reaching that blinding goal of coming completely undone with Spade's quickening strokes when she suddenly gripped the base of his cock, cutting him off right at the edge of his orgasm.

"Fuck," he gasped, eyes flying open.

"That wasn't too hard," she murmured, kissing him briefly on the nose. She resumed her strokes, now languid, and rested her forehead against his so that their eyes were locked.

"Sometimes, your niceness will get you rewards," she said quietly.

"Are you teaching me a lesson, Miss Spade," he said, each word punctuated with a shallow breath.

"Maybe," she said, lips quirking. "Keep your eyes open, Law. I want to watch you come."

Her staid tone shouldn't have been as intoxicating as it was; Law felt like a lab rat on display, played to do tricks to his master's observation. He knew he had no room to talk about the discomfort with a power dynamic, especially when he thrived on taming Spade, and what she was doing to him was fairly benign in comparison to how he'd taken her only moments earlier.

Yet, the feeling remained. Law did not shut his eyes, instead forced to watch Spade's green orbs monopolize his vision as her strokes finally resumed that comforting fast and rough quality to bring him over the edge. Law's mind was going at the speed of light. Why watch him like this? Why maintain the eye contact? Spade's gaze was so intense, as if she were searching for something within him that could only be read in the throes of vulnerability. Sex and pleasure were not supposed to involve such mental exercise, but when it came to Spade, Law could not help but feel almost frightened.

When his orgasm finally hit him, it hit him in waves that accumulated on each other. The creamy release shot with startling force over Spade's hand and Law's abdomen, and Spade milked the last drop out of him as Law's moan echoed through his room.

Spade looked pleased with herself, but did not gloat. She released his now limp length and used the sheets to clean the both of them off before she resumed her position against his arm.

"Positive reinforcement?" Law said when he finally caught his breath.

"Maybe," she said, amused.

"I'm not so easily manipulated, Spade," he said darkly.

She gave a throaty laugh. "I know, Law. It was half a joke. Lighten up."

He snorted at the echo of his own advice, disbelieving, but he held her against him tightly.

"Thanks," she whispered so quietly that Law barely could hear her, "for caring."

She sounded genuine, and looking at Spade's almost shy smile now, Law could not help but believe her. His stomach turned, and he could feel the familiar desire to retreat from anything remotely real.

But for once, he did not want to run.

* * *

The Whitebeard base was a sturdy fortress made of rock imbued with Jozu's diamond, making it difficult to penetrate, especially without any direction. In the two years since its establishment, the base had never received any unexpected visitors, as the island it was located on could not be found by a Log Pose. Even if some stray sailors found themselves on the island on accident, the torturous mountains the base was seated on made it exceedingly difficult for any unaware passerby to actually trek to the base itself. Several of the Whitebeard commanders had the ability to fly, which made the journey easy, while the others saw the dangerous hike up and down the winding mountains as a form of training.

Spade's arrival back to the Whitebeard base came without anything alerting of her return. She appeared at the entrance of the fortress with nothing more than a slight warm breeze, her body fully materializing along with one companion.

Out of everyone Marco had suspected, Trafalgar Law was certainly not the guest he'd expected.

The moment the two of them appeared, Marco's men had their swords drawn and guns cocked, aimed at their direction. None of the Whitebeard officers looked even slightly fazed with the disturbance, despite that Spade's arrival had been deathly silent and that they'd been stationed at the base's entrance for several hours now, waiting.

Spade held up her hands in surrender.

"What a nice welcome back," she said dryly.

"Are you safe?" Marco asked, arms crossed as he surveyed Law suspiciously.

Spade nodded, appearing relaxed. "I am."

If anything, it was the Heart Pirates captain who had more reason to be skittish. A pale blue sphere surrounded him, and his hand twitched around the hilt of his nodachi. Marco had to give him credit—most people would shit their pants being surrounded by so many Whitebeard commanders, but Trafalgar Law was not like most people. His gray eyes were steely and focused, and he stood abreast of Spade, not behind her.

Marco took a moment to study the newcomer. Law did not contain an obvious aura of intimidation, especially with his fuzzy spotted cap and colorful clothing ensemble, but Marco was not one to be led astray by appearances. He himself was considered one of the less physically imposing members of the Whitebeard Pirates, but height and bulk meant little in a real fight. Still, though a decent height, Law almost looked skinny. Nothing about him struck Marco as terribly impressive, which made him only more wary.

Marco waved his men forward, and they approached, weapons still drawn. Spade glared at Marco.

"You've never brought a guest here," Marco explained in response to her unspoken accusation. "I need to make sure he's not threatening you."

"If he were, I wouldn't be here," she said coolly, arm extended protectively in front of Law. "I wouldn't bring an enemy back to base."

"He's as much of an enemy as any I've seen," Blenheim growled.

Spade frowned at the sight of him and glanced over at Marco, who sighed. Blenheim was fiercely loyal to Marco, but had always butted heads with Spade. Marco had attempted to send Blenheim with the Moby Dick crew, but the Ninth Division Commander had iterated several times that he believed Marco had a huge blind spot when it came to Spade, and made it clear that he would not leave when she visited.

"I don't believe we've ever had the pleasure of meeting," Law said, voice almost a drawl, "so it's odd that you'd deem me an enemy when this is our first time laying eyes on one another."

Marco stifled an internal groan. Law was a smart-ass. This was going to end poorly.

"You're a Shichibukai," Blenheim said. "We don't have space for you traitors here."

"Ex-Shichibukai," Law corrected smoothly. "It's been all over the news recently, but with your base so remote, perhaps you're not well-informed."

Marco arched an eyebrow at Spade, who shrugged and looked amused at best. She had no intention of defending Blenheim.

"Fucking brat," Blenheim spat. "What're you thinkin', Spade, bringing him here? It's a bad idea."

"Of course you'd think so, Blenheim. It was a favor of sorts," she answered. "Trafalgar has something he'd like to ask, and he gave me a gift for showing him the way."

"What gift?" Marco said sharply.

Law pulled something out of his bag. In his outstretched hand was a blue cube containing a beating heart.

"This is the heart of Jesus Burgess, one of Blackbeard's Titanic Ten. At this moment, my crew is sailing with Burgess himself onboard, so as to throw off any of Blackbeard's men from tracing Burgess's Vivre card," Law said calmly, as if there was nothing ridiculous about him holding the heart of an apparently living man outside of his body. "I came with this heart as a gift of good faith, though truthfully, it was Miss Spade who took down Burgess herself."

Marco looked over at Spade, who grinned crookedly.

"There's a lot to catch you up on," she said, "but Trafalgar's the only reason I got the opportunity. Plus, he's the reason we could keep Burgess alive. I didn't want to risk taking him prisoner by myself and lead Blackbeard here."

"A kind gesture," Marco said slowly. "Spade, come here."

"Marco, it's the truth."

"I know," he said simply. "But being as paranoid as you are, you gotta understand why I'm bein' careful. If Trafalgar's here on peaceful terms, I'm sure he doesn't mind if you leave his side for a second."

Spade frowned, brow furrowed.

"We won't hurt him," Marco said impatiently. "Come here, Spade."

She obeyed, stalking over to him quickly. Marco waved and his men advanced on Law, who remained impressively calm, but the blue orb surrounding him expanded.

"You're being a dick," she said when she got close.

"I'm bein' fucking careful," he muttered, taking her by the wrist and doing a quick one-over. She looked healthy, unharmed, and annoyed. "Prove that you're you and not under duress."

"I'm the fucking Hurricane," she hissed so that no one around could overhear. "Trafalgar Law still remains one of the people I've had the biggest misfortune of meeting. Guarantee you that if I were forced to be here, he wouldn't let me say that."

"Fine," Marco relented. "So what's the deal with Trafalgar?"

"I'm vouching for him," she said. "I wouldn't have brought him here if I didn't trust him."

Marco looked at her steadily. "That's a huge leap of faith for someone you met only a coupl'o weeks ago and didn't have nice things to say about."

"You cross a lot of ground when you save each other's lives and see each other at your worst," she said vaguely. "He's in alliance with Luffy and he's here on behalf of the Mink Tribe of Zou, too. Everything he says about that being Burgess's heart and Burgess being on his sub—it's true. He's not here to harm you."

She was resolute, and because Spade was so careful with Marco's life, he trusted her.

"All right," he said. "Search him. We'll take the heart and your weapon, Trafalgar."

Law raised his eyebrows. "Taking my blade will not stop me from fighting back should I be threatened."

"Do you want us to put you in Kairouseki then?"

"Just give up your sword, Trafalgar," Spade said brusquely. "We're wasting time."

Unenthusiastically, Law handed over his sword to Vista, who drew the blade from its sheathe to examine it with interest. The blue light bathing Law's profile never wavered as several men patted him down, retrieving a Den-Den Mushi from his pocket, before they escorted Law into the base. The Hearts Captain shot Spade a lingering glance, who gave him a reassuring nod. The exchange was not lost on Marco.

Spade made a movement to follow the others into the fortress, but Marco held her back briefly.

"It's been a while," he remarked. "You stopped dropping messages."

"I was on Trafalgar's sub," she said. "Didn't want to risk being overheard, and I have updates that can't risk being Tapped. We have a lot of ground to cover, Marco."

"You always give me so much work," he sighed.

She smiled wryly. "Everyone loves seeing me here."

"You know I'm kidding, Spade. It really is good to see you."

"I know, I know," she said. She wrapped her arms around him, and Marco hugged her back tightly. "Good to see you too, Marco. I've missed you."

He pressed his lips to the top of her head. "Missed you too."

* * *

Law was brought to a great atrium with a large looming ceiling and tall windows that lined its walls. A smooth stone rectangular table that seated approximately twenty was placed at the head of the room, while heavy wooden chairs filled the rest of the space. The atrium was clearly a meeting space, and Law was directed to sit at one of the table. He took his seat stiffly, every nerve in his body screaming caution. As much as he didn't need Kikoku, he felt naked without his nodachi, especially when he felt so much on display. It had been a big risk on his part to come to the Whitebeard base on his own, and it said a lot about Spade's relationship with the rest of his crew that they'd let Law leave at all. Bepo had given Spade an almost frightening warning before they'd bade the Heart Pirates farewell, though Spade had appeared more amused than threatened.

Marco took the chair at the opposite head of the table, and the commanders filled in the other chairs, choosing their seats as if there were a proper order. Law had thought that Spade would sit close to him, but it turned out that Spade's seat was right next to Marco's. She had not underplayed the hostility between her and some of the other commanders; Blenheim, three seats down from Marco, looked between the two of them darkly as Spade assumed her place with familiarity. Law could understand the frustration. Even from his outsider's perspective, the fact that Spade was a mere affiliate, yet so close to Marco, would certainly rub people the wrong way.

She did not seem to have the same interactions with some choice others; she smiled at Jozu, the Diamond Man, who returned the greeting with a brief smile of his own, and she laughed at Vista, the commander who had taken Law's nodachi, as he made some joke.

The rest of the foyer was filled by lower-ranking officers, and when all the seats had been taken, Law was astonished that almost a hundred people were in the atrium. He looked at Marco uncertainly. Surely the meeting would not be held with so many people present? He imagined that it would be difficult to accomplish anything with so many opinions eager to be voiced.

Law was surrounded by whispers and glares, and as uncomfortable as it was to be such an object of scrutiny, he brushed them off. He focused on Marco and Spade beside him. _Ignore the noise_ , her expression read.

Marco raised one hand and the hall fell into silence.

"I bet it's strange for you to see so many people present at this kind of meeting," Marco said to Law. "I try to keep my men as informed and involved as possible, so don't be alarmed. Everyone here is trustworthy, so feel free to speak openly."

Law highly doubted that every single one of the hundred people present was trustworthy, and by the amusement on Spade's face, he could tell she felt the same. Still, if this was how Marco wanted to run his ship, Law was not in a position to judge. Only seconds in Marco's presence showed Law that the Phoenix lived up to his reputation.

Given the floor to speak, Law gave a brief overview of the events at Punk Hazard and Dressrosa, ending with the circumstances at Zou that had led Law to serve as an ambassador to the Whitebeards. Marco let him speak uninterrupted for the most part, though occasionally he would look over to Spade for verification or embellishment. Spade remained curt in her responses, and Law did not miss the way her eyes flickered frequently over the rest of the table, giving him the impression that the majority of her information was reserved for Marco's ears alone.

"Kaidou, eh," Marco said. He tapped his fingers on the surface in front of him mindlessly. "Sure ain't a friend of ours."

"Bastard tried to flank us at the Battle of Marineford," scowled a shark fishman Law recognized to be Namur, Eighth Division Commander. "Didn't take him long to pick up the scraps of Pops' empire."

"The Mink Leaders said that you have long been in an alliance with them," Law said. "Fighting Kaidou will be difficult for all of us, but with the Whitebeards involved, I believe we can win."

"They've always been friends of ours," said Vista fondly, his mustache bobbing up and down with each word. "I do miss them. Such kind folk."

"But Kaidou?" said Jozu. "He has not been on our agenda for some time now."

"With Doflamingo in prison, Kaidou's taken a big hit!" a vice commander from the audience shouted out. "If we're gonna fight him, now's a good time, when he doesn't have his Joker!"

"Joker's out of prison," Spade said as she studied her nails. "Burgess told us that Blackbeard freed him."

"What?!"

"Sounds like information you should've included in the initial report," Marco chided.

"It was Trafalgar's report, not mine," Spade said smoothly. "Trafalgar's here to convince you to fight Kaidou, and that news doesn't change anything on that front—if Blackbeard has Doflamingo, Kaidou's still got nothing in the Underworld, and Doflamingo's network has been largely absorbed by other Underworld players. Thanks to Luffy and Trafalgar's alliance, Kaidou certainly has suffered a large blow. He's going to be angry, which will make him foolish. If we're going to fight him, now is not a bad time."

Law frowned, confused. Spade had made it clear she would not fight for his case, but everything she'd just said was in his favor.

Unfortunately, Marco seemed to know Spade better than Law did.

"But?" the Phoenix said lightly.

"It's stupid," she said serenely. "The injuries to Kaidou's force were soft ones, rooted in Intel and econ, not actual fighting power. Yes, Jack the Drought is out of commission at the moment, but that's it. Kaidou is strong and if Blackbeard gets wind that we're fighting him, he'll wait until the battle's over and clean up whatever's left of it. Either way, Blackbeard will win. We have nothing to gain by fighting Kaidou. I think we should focus on Blackbeard, see what he's up to with Doflamingo."

"Once we win against Kaidou," said Law, "you'll have the fighting power of Wano Country, the Strawhats and myself, as well as the Mink Tribe. It's a significant boost to your crew, considering how isolated the Whitebeards have been for the last two years. You won't have to start from scratch when you call upon allies to fight against Blackbeard."

"And if we find out what Blackbeard is doing with Doflamingo, we won't need allies at all," Spade countered. "Taking a leaf from your book, Trafalgar, as long as we have something important to Blackbeard and exploit it, a mass-scale fight won't be necessary."

"Then you should learn from my mistakes, because Dressrosa ended up very differently from what I'd intended," he said frostily.

Spade bared a smile. "You got baited by Doflamingo when you could've let Kaidou clean things up instead. I'm smarter than you—if I can get someone else to kill Blackbeard, that's fine by me."

"If you're against this alliance," Namur said before Law could retort, "why did you bring him here, Spade?"

"I owed him a favor," she answered. "And I wanted Burgess alive. If it was just granting him an audience with Marco, I thought it was a small price to pay."

"And because a decision of this caliber should be presented to all of us," Marco said lightly.

Spade snorted. "Yes, because waiting for a unanimous decision here always gets things done. I wasn't planning on bringing him here. I was supposed to sail Trafalgar's crew in circles."

"Why were you on his ship in the first place?" the Phoenix probed.

"I bested her in a duel," Law said vindictively. "I took her heart."

This was an unwise thing to say—the two officers nearest to him had blades pointed at his throat immediately.

"Let him go. He gave it back," Spade said shortly.

"Why would he?" Marco demanded.

"We…reconciled," was her elusive answer. "I concede that he forced me on the Polar Tang, but again, I wouldn't have ever brought him here outside of my own volition."

At Marco's signal, the blades were resheathed and Law resumed breathing. He still maintained his Room and had not been in any serious danger, but the imminent threats were exhausting.

"That seems awful suspicious of you," said Blenheim, eyes narrowed. "Why bring a stranger to base whose cause you don't believe in, unless you're plottin' somethin'."

Spade gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "Plotting what, Blenheim?"

"The fuck would I know. You're the one fuckin' with the Underworld—"

"You cannot just say I'm plotting something without any substantial suspicion," she interrupted. "As you think about exactly what you're accusing me of, why don't we let Marco continue."

"Thanks," he said dryly. "So it's to my understanding that Donquixote Doflamingo is your nemesis. With the news that he's out of prison, why still fight Kaidou and abandon your original objective?"

"My objective was Kaidou to begin with," Law returned. "Targeting Doflamingo was merely a way to dismantle a huge part of Kaidou's army."

"Don't take me for a fool," Marco said lazily, but the gleam in his eyes made Law tense. "I know about your past. Doflamingo was your captain. Dressrosa was a personal vendetta."

Law's gaze swiveled to Spade, but she looked as surprised at Marco's declaration as Law felt.

"Don't glare at her," Marco said, understanding Law's silence correctly. "Spade is a chief informant, but contact with her can be sporadic. I have other ways of diggin' up information if I need it quickly."

"I'm so proud," Spade sighed, a hand placed over her heart in dramatic fashion.

"Fuck off, Spade. Answer my question, Trafalgar."

Law bristled. "There are things I'd rather not discuss in an auditorium full of strangers."

"Fine," Marco said, unperturbed. "Spade?"

Law's heartbeat accelerated. The answers to these questions were personal and would involved bits and pieces of Law's history that he did not want to disclose to people who were, if not enemies, certainly not friends.

Spade did not reply immediately, which caused the Phoenix to turn to her.

"You know the answer, don't you?" he asked.

"General suspicions," she said reluctantly. "We should talk in private."

"They're in on it together!" shouted someone from the audience. "She's always like this, Captain—"

"For fuck's sake, I'm not Captain."

"Commander," the member corrected quickly. "She's always hidin' things, never wants to say anythin' in public. Why? It's fuckin' suspicious!"

"She tells me everything in private and I disseminate that information accordingly," Marco said wearily, as if this were an argument he had frequently.

"But you trust us! The whole point of these meetings is to get everyone on the same page. If she don't follow your orders, then she's not one of us, and you can't trust her."

"It's true," Blenheim said gravely. "I have felt this way for a long time."

"I recognize that," Marco said tiredly. "But I've told you multiple times that I trust Spade, and—"

"Then why did you track her?" Blenheim demanded.

Marco looked at him sharply. "How d'you know about that?"

"I told him," Jozu said apologetically. "It was a slip of tongue."

"It wasn't a slip of tongue!" Blenheim argued. "Marco, tons of us think that the confidence you place in Spade is an issue—your men don't trust her, and yet you welcome her back with open arms despite your own reservations!"

"My reservations were regarding her own safety," Marco said severely. "I have never doubted Spade's loyalty and that remains true."

"Then tell us what she tells you," the Ninth Division Commander said angrily. "All of it."

There were murmurings from the audience that swelled and echoed through the stone atrium. Several men were standing up, their voices clamoring for attention. The situation was absurd, bordering chaotic. Long had the attention been diverted from the Surgeon of Death toward Spade, who looked irritated and bored all at once. It was clear that their meetings commonly devolved into arguments surrounding this point of contention, but the animosity that they held seemed bizarre. Law felt like he was missing a crucial detail.

"I can't," said Marco curtly.

"Then who's the real commander here!" shouted Blenheim, standing up. "You are blinded by this woman who ran away from Ace the moment he lost—"

"Sit down, Blenheim," Marco said.

"A harlot at best—"

An incredible pressure filled the room, oppressive and powerful. Law remained rigid, his Room flickering slightly as foreign Haki fought Law's own. There were thuds all around him as men in the audience slumped over, frothing at the mouth, unconscious. The commanders remained untouched, and Spade looked jaded, but Law was unnerved. Conqueror's Haki was rare, and even compared to the few that Law had experienced, Marco's was on a different level entirely.

"You're gettin' sidetracked, Blenheim," Marco said calmly. "I do not need you defamin' Spade for no reason when we have more important things to discuss, and with a guest in our presence, no less."

"A highly suspicious guest that this woman brought," spat Blenheim. "She's probably fuckin' him too, that's' why she brought 'im here."

"And finally we reach the core of the issue," said Spade as she leaned back in her seat, eyes blazing. "I can never pinpoint it with you, Blenheim, or any of the others who hate me so much. Just what exactly bothers you so much? That I'm Hurricane? 'Cause that's fuckin' ridiculous—I'm bustin' my ass everyday to get this crew information when you sit on your fat ass waitin' for the day Blackbeard finds us and kills us with his double-Devil-Fruit army. It can't be that I've riskin' my life everyday for yours, so really, it must be because I fucked Marco, and if _that's_ the case, I'm sorry you're so jealous—would it make you feel better if I fucked you too? Or would you prefer to have Marco's dick in your mouth?"

"You fucking _bitch_!" Blenheim roared.

"Spade," said Marco warningly.

"I've dealt with this for over two years," she snapped at him, clearly furious. "I'm the one who always has to deal with this shit, Marco, not you, so the least you could've done was send this son of a bitch away when I returned."

"So what? So you can whisper sweet nothins in his ear and get him to do what you want?!"

"Both of you, out!" Marco shouted.

Spade looked at him, incensed, but Marco looked spent. He made a general hand movement, as if swatting an invisible fly.

"Everyone," he said coldly, "out. I want to talk with Trafalgar alone."

"Captain—"

"I'm not a fuckin' captain," Marco said through gritted teeth. "Everyone, get the fuck out. You too, Spade."

"You've gotta be kiddin' me—"

" _Especially_ you," he said, his tone commanding. "I'll talk to you in a bit."

"Is it wise to leave you and Trafalgar Law alone?" Jozu said, completely unruffled by the confrontation that Law thought was a circus.

"It's fine, he can't touch me," said Marco.

Law felt slightly insulted, but the display of the Conqueror's Haki proved that Marco's confidence was not baseless.

His leadership, on the other hand, had Law questioning. There was a reason Law limited his crew size to twenty and no more. Having fleets like the Yonkou did, with so many men involved, invited dispute and dissent. There was never a way of appeasing everyone, and the thought of a happy family of over a hundred members was naïve at best. Crews could be democratic to some extent, but more than anything, they needed to have a hierarchy. Marco's own refusal to own his captainship was peculiar and frankly weak. There was no way Law would've ever let a crewmember mouth off the way Blenheim had, especially with what Blenheim was implying about Spade.

Spade and Marco's history shouldn't have surprised Law, but it did. Knowing that Spade and Marco had slept together explained the visceral distrust that many of the Whitebeards had for her, and it also elucidated why Spade was so concerned with the "optics." It was not so much that she was ashamed of her behavior, as she was conscious of its impact on her credibility; the warning that she'd given Law prior to their arrival now made more sense.

Law would be lying if he claimed he did not feel anything about the news. He had thought that his only competition was dead, but with Marco in the picture, Law could not help but feel slighted. Jealous, perhaps not, but definitely miffed.

It struck Law that he was not even sure what the competition was for, but this was a question that he had been dwelling on for days now, and still had no answer for.

"You look unimpressed," Marco said as the commanders collected their unconscious men and exited the atrium, leaving him and Law alone at opposite ends of the table.

"Your Haki was remarkable," the surgeon said diplomatically. He had no intention of pissing off anyone who had Conqueror's Haki of that caliber. "The most remarkable I've seen."

"So it's not your first time experiencing it."

"No, I've met three people who could use it. Four, now."

"Who?"

"Silvers Rayleigh," replied Law. "Doflamingo. And Strawhat Luffy."

"Ah, yeah," Marco said, his fingers drumming the table. "Rayleigh's an old man now, and the other two…" Marco shrugged. "Can't compare me to small fry like them."

Law found it difficult to be offended by Marco's casual arrogance, even when he dismissed Law's archnemesis who was also a Tenryuubito as "small fry." Even sitting in his presence, Law could tell that if they fought, Law would easily lose. Marco's Haki seemed to overflow from every pore in his skin, and Law, whose greatest vice was stamina, would be easily outclassed.

The petty side of him affirmed that that would not be the case in the bedroom.

"So tell me, you're serious about Kaidou," Marco said, relaxing in his chair. "Why not pursue Doflamingo?"

Quickly, Law summarized the contact from Blackbeard's team, the circumstances of the Indigo Ring, and conditions under which Spade had defeated Burgess. Marco listened intently, nodding only briefly when Law concluded.

"Good for Spade," the Whitebeard Commander sighed. "Always worry about her in battle, but it's good to hear she can beat a Titanic Ten."

"She's strong," said Law, surprised with Marco's concern.

"You beat her in a duel," he said, amused. "You're a fledgling compared to the Yonkou. If Spade lost to you, she's gonna have to train some more."

"Results may have been different if we'd fought at sea."

"Perhaps, but it's not reliable enough." Marco scratched the back of his neck. "Kaidou, eh. That's a battle I'd honestly rather not fight."

"Why?" Law said, bewildered. "I could understand before I met you, but your Haki alone could take down half of his men. With this alliance, we can win."

Marco pursed his lips. "It may be more complicated than that."

The cryptic response made Law uneasy.

"What are you hiding?" said the Surgeon of Death, tempering the accusation in his voice.

"What do you mean?" said Marco, feigning ignorance.

"This is an opportunity to take down a Yonkou—you could re-establish the Whitebeards as a commanding force over the seas, potentially absorb the Yonkou role again. Additionally, I am offering my services on the Indigo Ring front to leverage Blackbeard; that is an offer that is priceless to you. Miss Spade knows about your Haki and the full extent of your strength but she's adamantly opposed me on this as well. It doesn't make any sense to me."

"That's none of your business," Marco said. "I'll think over your offer. In the meantime, you'll be our guest here. Thanks for coming so far on behalf of your alliance. I imagine the trip wasn't easy, especially with Spade."

"The beginning was rocky," admitted Law. "We are cordial now, though."

Marco smirked. "Glad to hear. I imagine the sex helps."

The statement caught Law completely off guard. He had made no indication of the matter and since their arrival, Spade had been fairly distant with him, if not antagonistic.

Marco laughed at Law's silence. "I know her well. Bringin' you here speaks volumes about what she thinks of you. It's also been a long time since she'd blown up at Blenheim like that—his comment about you two fuckin' must've set her of, but only because it was true."

"It was not a means of persuasion, if that's what you're implying," said Law tersely.

"I wasn't," the Whitebeard commander said simply. "She's not easily persuaded that way either."

Marco stood up and pushed back his chair, eliciting a grating shriek that reverberated in the hall.

"You must be tired from the journey," he said. "We don't have many guests here, so guest bedrooms aren't really a thing. I'll get one of the men to put you in Spade's room."

"That may be a bad idea," Law said curtly. "She asked for our…relationship, whatever it is, to be kept to myself."

"Oh, I wasn't meaning that," said Marco with a lazy grin. "Don't worry. When Spade comes home, she usually stays with me."

Marco exited the room, his orders carrying over to the guards stationed outside. Law suddenly felt exhausted, realizing that he'd been maintaining a Room for hours now. He let it dissipate, the relaxation of his Devil's Fruit power seeping into his muscles, and leaned back against his chair.

He had known this. He knew where Spade's loyalty lied, and it was clear Marco knew it too, which was why the Whitebeard Commander hadn't been the least bit threatened. Law had known all this, had processed all this in his prefrontal cortex, but the sinking feeling in his chest told him that his amygdala and whatever other pathways monitored emotions had not received the same message.

It was truly a burden, loving and being loved.

* * *

 _free talk_ :

 _no spade POV this chapter, but living in law's head, the push and pull of spade and law's relationship is clearly felt on both ends. if only open and honest communication were a thing..._

 _this fic is named_ shambles _for the obvious tie to law but really for the reasons that law stated in this chapter. (shambles is also a great word. it sounds exactly like what it means.) it's law's word but spade's world._

 _thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed. please review!_

 _xoxo,  
m.n_


	13. Solipsism

**Chapter 13** : **Solipsism**

Marco was not surprised to find Spade in his quarters, flipping through the documents on his desk and reading the notes he'd pinned to the bulletin boards. He'd half-expected her to be naked, given that sex was usually the result when Spade got angry with him, and it was somewhat a relief that she wasn't. The glare she gave him when he entered his room was not all that preferable, though.

"You profiled Trafalgar?" she said, gesturing to a small stack of notes at the corner of the table.

"You don't bring down the king of Dressrosa and Kaidou's Joker without earning some respect," Marco said, sinking into his office chair. "He and Luffy are big players now, though Luffy is a lot less complicated."

"You found out about his history then, being from Flevance." She picked up a book with the city's name as its title. "The sole survivor of the Amber Lead Syndrome."

"He told you all that? Or did you find it out yourself?"

Spade shook her head. "He told me."

"Seems pretty personal."

"We've covered a lot of ground," she said thinly. "For better or for worse."

"What does he know about you?"

"A lot," she said, absentmindedly flipping through the book. "Probably more than he should."

"Does he know about Aokiji?"

"Of course not," she said, voice tight. "I'm not that stupid."

"I know, I was just checking," he answered, keeping his tone light. Spade was rarely like this with him, defensive and reactionary, but he hated when it did happen. Unconditional trust was supposed to be given between them, but the probe likely reminded Spade that Marco still sometimes questioned her decisions. He'd tracked her movements, and he could tell she begrudged him for this. "What does he know that he shouldn't, then?"

"Feelings about Ace," Spade said shortly. "Nothing that could jeopardize the Whitebeards."

"But could jeopardize you."

"Ace is dead," she said bluntly. "He can hardly use Ace against me."

"You know what I mean."

Spade tossed the book back on the desk, causing a dull thud to resound. "We should talk about more important things."

"Your relationship to Trafalgar Law is important, Spade."

"He won't hurt you," she said, eyes flashing. "Trust me on that."

"I'm hardly worried 'bout me," scoffed Marco. "I don't want you being vulnerable with someone who could hurt you."

"You're being judgmental. And I find your concern patronizing at best."

"Spade," Marco said sharply. "Don't do this with me. I'm always on your side."

"Sometimes, it doesn't feel that way," she retorted.

"Blenheim—"

"Is an ass. But I understand your position, Marco, and I'm sorry for defending myself." Her tone dripped acid.

"That's not the point," he said impatiently. "You should defend yourself, especially when I can't. My issue isn't with what happened with Blenheim—it's with Trafalgar. Doflamingo trained him to be his right-hand man, Spade. Even if Doflamingo's his enemy, his upbringing makes me worry."

"I'll handle Trafalgar Law," Spade said coolly. "You handle your men."

He'd felt this kind of resistance from Spade only a few times before, usually when it came to dealings with Aokiji, and again when she'd been determined to release the child slave trade reports about Shabondy and then decided to raid the auction house herself. Marco had been cautious about both of those choices, and it had honestly been this loss of connection between him and Spade that had convinced him to agree with those decisions despite his qualms. The two of them were supposed to be open and honest with each other, the only connection Spade could truly rely on, but it seemed that Law was slowly driving a wedge between them.

"Spade," he said, reaching for her hand.

He was glad when she didn't pull away, and instead she relaxed to his touch. Cracks of hurt appeared in that veneer of anger, and Marco truly felt sorry as Spade squeezed his hand but looked away.

"Hey," he said gently.

"Sorry, I'm being stupid," she said, voice thick with emotion. "Give me a sec."

"Sure."

Marco rubbed the surface of her hand with his thumb soothingly.

"I'm always on your side, Spade," he said quietly. "Don't forget that."

"I know. Just can be hard sometimes."

He pulled at her wrist and she fell into his lap. Marco wrapped his arms around her and was encouraged by Spade doing the same, her profile almost melting in his embrace.

After the Payback War, when the Whitebeards had scattered after the defeat, Spade had brought Marco to a tiny island deep in the New World where she'd established a permanent residence as a bartender. In the confines of her home, far away from the other Whitebeards, the Marines, the rest of the world, Spade had watched Marco's painful recovery from the brink of death. They'd both drank a lot in those weeks, and it was in one episode of inebriation that Spade had confessed that the only place in the world she felt safe was when she was alone with him. It was the only time she could stop thinking, stop worrying, start living again.

Marco could not help but be reminded of that moment as he held her now. He had no doubt that Spade would die for him, but not because she loved him. Marco was Spade's best chance to thwart Blackbeard and eventually the Marines, and everything she did as Hurricane and a Whitebeard affiliate was oriented toward those goals. It was up to Marco to remember the little pieces that Spade locked deep inside, the parts of her that simply wanted everything to stop.

"I could fall asleep like this," Spade said, lips brushing his temple.

"You can, if you want."

She laughed weakly. "We have work to do."

She pulled away from him, but Marco took her chin in his palm and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. She leaned back into him. It was a kiss of comfort and reassurance, but they did not go any further. Spade was right—they had work to do.

"You knowing Trafalgar's background shortens things for me," she said as she climbed off of him. "I thought it was fairly scandalous."

"It is. He has a vendetta against the World Government too—I s'pose we can assume that he won't ally with Marines."

"We shouldn't assume anything when it comes to Trafalgar Law," Spade said wryly. "But that does seem like a lesser possibility. My greater concern is with Doflamingo. Trafalgar changes when that man's in the picture."

Marco cocked his head to the side. "In what way?"

Spade frowned. "As creepy as Trafalgar see,s, he's honestly quite…nice, if he wants to be. If you ever meet his crew, you'll understand where I'm coming from. His navigator is an adorable polar bear who Law saved from bullies. Another crewmember is an ex-slave that Law freed from Shabondy's human auction. His crewmembers are genuinely good people, and they all love him. It reminds me of the Strawhats."

"But?"

"He's not Luffy," she said, eyes darkening. "Law knows how to manipulate people, information, and situations to his advantage. He is lethally smart and also not clean-cut about justice like Luffy is. He tortured Burgess for the last few days for information, and I think he enjoyed it."

"Charming."

"He has a strange amount of self-awareness though," she said. "He knows these traits are disturbing. So when it comes to Doflamingo, I think he's reminded that he could easily be his ex-captain. It makes him react more emotionally than he normally is. Look at Dressrosa—he got into a shitshow because he couldn't let Doflamingo go."

"So why not chase Doflamingo? If we can redirect Law's intentions, we could fight Blackbeard before Kaidou."

Spade's eyes almost seemed to glow. "Because he wants to prove that Doflamingo doesn't have that power over him anymore."

"I guess we all have our blind spots," Marco sighed. "So if you don't want to fight Kaidou, what do you want to do? Manipulate Trafalgar to lure Blackbeard in?"

"I'm not that cruel," she said curtly.

"Oh, but that means you could," he smirked, "which means the premise for that power is there. Tell me, Spade, how long have you and Trafalgar been fuckin'?"

"We're—"

"Don't lie to me," he said warningly. "We're alone, and I'm not Blenheim. I'm not judgin'. But I need to understand your relationship."

"How'd you know?" she said wryly.

"Your reaction to Blenheim. And I confirmed with Trafalgar earlier, though I didn't need to. You've been calling him by his given name for a while now."

"It's been just a week," she said delicately after a pause. "Since I got Burgess."

"And?"

"And what?" she said irritably.

"Make this easier for me, will you," Marco said, exasperated. Getting Spade to talk about feelings was needlessly trialing. "What's going on between you two?"

"No idea," she said smoothly. "Just fucking."

"Not for you," he said, eyes narrowed. "You've talked about personal stuff with him. He knows you're Hurricane. You brought him here. You trust him."

"To some extent, yes."

"Do you love him?"

"No," she said coldly. "If you told me to kill him right now, I'd do it."

"I doubt that," muttered Marco. "And what does he feel for you?"

"He cares about me," she said. "He told me recently."

"For someone like him, that's seems like a fuckin' big deal."

Spade's eyes flickered. "Maybe."

They both knew what Marco was suggesting, even without him saying it out loud. Marco did not believe in taking advantage of people's feelings or insecurities, but people like Doflamingo or Law himself could without question. Even if it was a power he did not use, Marco liked having the security.

"I'm considering joining the alliance," Marco said, changing the subject. "It's not a bad idea."

"No," she said, eyes flashing. "If you get a spasm in the middle of the fight—"

"I'll be guarded."

"If you're flying in the air and get one, you'll die just by the fall," she said angrily. "You won't be guarded all the time. Plus if Blackbeard finds out, he'll attack at first opportunity."

"What about Trafalgar's work with the Indigo Rings?" Marco suggested. "He mentioned something about his research. We have a stash of it here—we intercepted a shipment to Blackbeard. Maybe Trafalgar can cure me."

Spade glowered. "You want to tell Law about this debilitating illness you have? I trust Law, but not _that_ much."

"It's a thought, especially if he can cure it."

"Or he uses it against you," she admonished. "It's not a cure, just a drug that masks the symptoms. What if you get addicted, and he withholds it from you? He'll be able to get anything out of you."

"Wow, I'm really sensin' the trust between you two."

"I'm being practical," she said angrily. "I don't take chances with your life, Marco!"

"I know," he sighed. "I'm just thinking out loud."

Spade looked at him, irate and anxious. Marco smiled slightly.

"He's not who I would've chosen for you, y'know."

"Please," she said bitterly. "As if I'm in the position to be set up with suitors."

"You need someone like Ace," he said, ignoring her statement. "Someone simple, like Luffy."

"Oh, God," she shuddered.

"Not him exactly. But you get what I mean. Someone who'd let you think less. Not Trafalgar. And not me, either."

"You know I've never looked for that with you, Marco," she said quietly.

Marco did know. Spade always seemed to feel less guilty about their relationship than Marco did, framing the act as "friends helping each other out." For someone so reserved about sex, Marco was skeptical how Spade could be so adamant in labeling their arrangement as platonic sex, but whenever Ace came up, Marco understood. The pull Ace had on her remained frighteningly strong, and Marco knew there was no comparison.

Marco had no words of comfort. The voids that both Ace and Whitebeard had left were nearly impossible to fill. Even two years later, Marco was still struggling to assume the role that Whitebeard had been for decades. Attempting to fill Ace's shoes was just too much, especially when the emotions involved were so different. Marco was Spade's overcompensation. Hiding so much of her life from Ace had been one of Spade's biggest regrets, and so there were no secrets between her and Marco now. It was a separate playing field to start.

Though cautious of Law, the natural wariness Spade had with him was encouraging, to some extent. It would allow a relationship to build from the ground up, and Marco believed she needed it.

Clearly, Spade had reasoned herself in the opposite direction.

"I think I'm using Law as a distraction," she murmured. "It's been so long since I've met new people…I think I'm just jumping on the first thing that is remotely attractive to me."

"It's not a bad thing," Marco said carefully. "Being distracted might help you."

"As long as it stays a short distraction," she said wearily. "I need to remain focused on what I'm doing in the long run. For Ace."

"Why?"

"For fuck's sake, Marco," she said, looking at him incredulously, "you can't be seriously encouraging this—"

"You just said you can't understand why you're still like this after two years. It's because you haven't met anyone new, and you haven't had time to distract yourself. Whatever comes of you and Trafalgar, maybe it'll help you get there."

"It's too risky."

"Ah, well, that's to be expected," said Marco sagely. "Caring always has its risks."

"You trust him, then?" she said, disbelieving.

"No. But you do."

Spade smiled. "You think I care for him."

"I know you do. It's not a bad thing. Just be careful."

Her gaze hardened and she nodded. "I know."

* * *

Spade typically slept in Marco's room whenever she returned to the Whitebeard base, so it was with some confusion that she found guards stationed outside the door to her own bedroom.

"Why are you here?" she asked one of them.

"Commander Marco told us to guard our guest."

"Oh, that fucker," muttered Spade under her breath. "You guys can clear out. I'll take care of Trafalgar."

"But—"

"Just leave," she said dangerously.

The guards scuttled away. She pushed open the door, revealing Law, who was presently sitting at her desk and studying a scrap of paper in his hand.

"Why are you in here?" she demanded, letting the heavy oaken door shut behind her.

Law looked startled to see her, but recovered smoothly.

"Marco said there were no guest rooms, so he put me here."

"That dick," she scowled. Marco had always loved playing matchmaker.

Law looked amused. "He knows about our arrangement."

"Yeah, he made that clear to me too," she said, striding over to him. "It's ridiculous that he put you in here—what does he want people to think? Plus, I have _work_ in here."

"It's old stuff," Law said. "I've read through what I could of your notes, but mostly everything is in code. You're thorough, as always."

"Thanks for asking my permission," she said dryly, snatching the paper out of his hand. "What were you reading—"

She paused when she recognized what she was holding. It was an old photo of her and Ace, one of the very few they had. Spade's back was facing the camera, but she was half-turned with a wide grin on her face as Ace pressed a kiss to her cheek. It had been taken shortly after she'd gotten her back tattoo, as the edges of her skin were still red and raw.

She smiled faintly, and her heart ached.

"A rare photo, I imagine," Law said lightly.

"Personal, too," she said, opening the drawer and returning the photo to its rightful place. "Don't be nosy."

"I apologize," he said without a trace of apology in his voice.

Spade rolled her eyes in response. She kicked off her boots and sat on the edge of the desk in front of him. She was tired, having finished briefing Marco about her Underworld dealings—he'd been pleased and impressed that she'd made a contact out of Fujitora but was cautious. The Admiral still had not contacted her since she'd left her last message, and coupled with silence from Aokiji, Spade was growing concerned on the Marine front.

"Did Marco say anything about his decision yet?" Law asked as he brought one hand to her leg, rubbing the tattoos with lazy purpose.

"He's still thinking about it. He wants to talk to you alone tomorrow."

Law nodded. "Very well."

"You did well today," she said. "Even though you were arguing for something I'm against."

"It helps when Marco's men are fairly simple-minded and easily distracted by you, Miss Spade."

She laughed. "It's true, but don't let people hear you say that."

Law chuckled, and Spade was impressed that he seemed so at ease despite being in potential enemy territory. Law had nothing to worry about with Spade with him, but if the situation were reversed, Spade knew she'd be testy beyond belief. Perhaps she was giving Law too much credit; he looked relieved and pleased to see her.

"I was under the impression you would not be returning to these quarters."

Spade arched an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you jealous?"

"Hardly," Law blinked. "Just didn't expect to have the pleasure of your company."

"You angry I didn't tell you about Marco?"

He shook his head. "More angry that I had not guessed it myself. I suppose being celibate for two years was a bit of stretch."

"You weren't too far off," she said. "It's just been Marco, and I haven't seen him in half a year now."

"Still, I should've done disease testing."

She hit him on the shoulder lightly. "You should've used a condom in the first place. I'm clean, anyway, and I take care of my own birth control, thanks for asking. If anything, I should be more worried about you, given your colorful history."

"Colorful?" he said mockingly. "It was just a one night with Nico Robin."

"And many others, including Eustass Kid, I hear."

Law's face darkened. "Who told you about that?"

"A little bird," she smiled. "I am really curious though. Who fucks whom when it happens? It's hard to imagine either of you submissive."

"I'm going to kill Ikkaku."

"Come on, Law."

"We switch," he said shortly. "I'm ending this discussion, Spade."

"Fine," she laughed, the effort raking her body. She never would've guessed being in Law's presence, of all people, would make her loosen up.

Law continued to trace both hands up and down her legs, and like a well-conditioned response, her body began to relax to his touch. He lifted her right leg up to rest on his shoulder and he kissed her inner thigh tenderly. She shivered at the feeling but already a familiar warmth settled in her bones, and her eyelids flitted half-shut.

Law stood up abruptly and spread her legs so he could settle between them. Gray eyes clear and intense, he leaned in and kissed her, his hands wrapping around her neck and small of her back. Something about his touch seemed different, almost kinder than normal. Besides the intimacy they'd shared that one time in the shower, Law had resumed his detached method of fucking, as if he knew just how uncomfortable Spade had been when they got too close. His touch was reminiscent of that time now, and Spade wanted to chase it away.

She kissed him back roughly, her tongue fighting with his, teeth worrying his lips. Law pulled back with an annoyed huff and glared at her.

"What?" she said coolly.

"We don't always have fuck like we're animals, Spade," he said irritably.

"I like it that way," she said, leaning back on her extended arms. She tilted her head, exposing her neck, and watched as Law's eyes followed the movement. ("Your sternocleidomastoids are positively delectable," he'd told her one time. It had taken Spade a moment to realize that he was talking about the muscle in her neck, one that Law liked to leave his mark on.) She made sure her right sternocleidomastoid was prominent now.

Like a moth drawn to a light, Law bent lower to kiss her neck, his teeth tracing the outline of the muscle. Spade let his hands roam as they pleased, one sliding up her back as the other began unbuttoning her jeans. Still, his movements were slow and cautious, and Spade grew irritated.

"What are you doing," she demanded.

"What?" he said, exasperated.

"This," she said angrily. "You're treating me like I'm something delicate."

"Maybe because I think you are," he snapped.

Spade pushed him off, eyes flashing. Law seemed to realize he'd made a mistake, but Spade was furious already.

"I do not need your pity," she snarled. "I told you to ignore what the others said—this is my issue, and I can handle it with Marco."

"It's not pity," he said tersely. "But I'm caring. You can pretend all you want now, but I know it bothers you."

"So what?" she shot back. "What are you going to do about it, Law? You're just going to cuddle all that shit away? I've dealt with this shit for years—I don't _need_ your gentle handling to make me feel better."

"Ah, I imagine Marco's gentle handling does the trick then."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you aren't _allowed_ to be jealous," she said, incensed.

Law sighed and retreated, hands up in surrender. "I take that statement back. It wasn't my intention."

Spade seethed silently, but she didn't continue. Law had this curious skill of deflating an argument when he wanted to. She always expected more of a fight back, even about trivial matters—when she and Ace had argued, the exchange would go back and forth for hours. Law was proud and would fight if he felt slighted, but he also knew how to de-escalate fights when he deemed them pointless, either by removing himself from the situation or by making a quick apology.

"I merely wanted to do something different," he said carefully. "I figured that the talking portion of the matter would be settled between you and Marco, and honestly I thought the sex would happen then too. But you're here."

"I'm here," she conceded, "but Marco's room is right down the hall, so don't make me regret my choice."

Law gave a small dark laugh and reached back toward her, and she let him kiss her again. But nothing about his kiss had changed—it was still careful, delicate, almost innocent. It was not the way Law kissed.

"I can't," she said, breaking away.

"Why?" he asked, his voice surprisingly calm. "This is not the first time I've been gentle with you. You've kissed me this way multiple times."

Because she did not know where they were. She'd kissed him innocently before, but that was because she thought the feelings were one-sided. Now, Law at least cared, and Spade did not know if she could afford this step. No matter what Marco said, that this distraction or whatever it was was good for her, Spade could not bring herself to believe that Law could see this going anywhere.

"Why can't you just give me what I want," she said bitterly.

"Because I don't want to," he answered. "Believe me, Spade, fucking you on your hands and knees is delightful. But I want to try something different today."

"Why?"

"I'm looking for an answer," he said serenely.

"To what question?" she said, aggravated. "You haven't even asked me anything."

"I'm not sure what the question is to begin with," he said. "I don't even think it's directed toward you."

She looked at him appraisingly. "Has anyone ever told you that you don't make sense?"

"Yes, but I merely assume it's because people are usually of lesser intelligence," he said, lips quirking. He brought a hand up to her cheek. "If I may, Miss Spade."

She was going to say no. They were in the Whitebeard base—she and Law weren't even supposed to be in the same room. She did not need to confirm the men's suspicions that she and Law were sleeping together. Better to just stay over at Marco's, because she might as well receive the same judgment she always had than add new fuel to the flames.

But Law was looking at her so sincerely that Spade could feel the part of her that wanted this, wanted _him_ , unravel beyond her control. This was so dangerous, such a terrible idea, but the moment Law kissed her again, she could not remember why.

Lips on hers, Law pushed her back so that she was sitting on the desk again, legs wrapped around his waist. Carefully, he found the edges of her shirt and broke the kiss briefly to pull it over her head, only to resume the action, his mouth opening slightly against hers in that pressing, gentle manner that sent shivers down her spine. His fingers unclasped her bra and tugged it off her, leaving her completely topless.

Law slowly lowered her back onto the desk and his mouth finally parted of hers to travel south, leaving Spade dragging shallow breaths. His fingers slid down her shoulders, then her sides, unhurriedly but unabashedly touching her with palms spread, as if trying to cover as much surface area as possible. His lips rested in the hollow of her neck, kissing and worrying the skin, before continuing their trek, between her clavicles, then over her heart, finally taking her left nipple in its warmth.

The wait was killing her, and the sensation of his teeth grazing her nipple made Spade whine. She felt her body arch toward him, craving more. Unlike normally, when Law would punish her for trying to set the pace, he obliged, taking her breast into his mouth as his right hand unbuttoned her shorts and tugged both them and her underwear off of her. Spade kicked them onto the floor and returned her knees around Law's hips, grinding against him urgently. Law's tongue flicked her nipple before he then took the nub in between his teeth and sucked; Spade's hands grabbed for Law's shirt, fisting the cloth and trying to rip it off of him as he continued his slow devouring.

"Clothes off," she gasped.

He obeyed and stood up briefly to take off his shirt. Spade sat up with him, running her hands over his skin as she kissed him messily. Law was still that picture of control, easing back into her kiss with deliberate slowness. She felt him pick her up by the thighs and travel across the room, avoiding the stacks of documents and newspaper clippings that littered her floor. He placed her down on the bed and shed the remainder of his clothes swiftly before climbing over her, both of them now naked.

Spade made a movement to turn around so that she was facing the mattress, but Law stopped her.

"Lay down on your back," he said quietly.

She didn't move, causing Law to sigh and push her gradually by the shoulders until she felt the mattress under her. Sensing how tense she was, Law resumed kissing her in that same patient manner, his hands kneading her hips and thighs until she parted under his touch. Spade could not help the fluttering of unease that caused her heart rate to hasten; she and Law had never fucked like this, despite this honestly being the most expected position, him on top of her, face-to-face. It didn't have to be intimate, and it probably wasn't, but Spade was already in her own head. Law looked calm and collected, but the feeling of his heartbeat under Spade's touch told her that he was nervous too.

Why force this? Why couldn't they just fuck the way they always did—harshly, roughly, with enough pain that Spade could convince herself there was no room for kind feelings between them?

Law scooted lower on the mattress and continued to trail his mouth down her torso, licking at the sweat that began to bead on Spade's skin. His pace was painstaking and his touch bordered reverent; Spade felt like she was being worshipped. It was only when Law reached her navel and continued to move lower that Spade realized what he was going to do.

"You're kidding," she whispered.

Law paused. "What? You don't like it?"

"No, I just…" she laughed weakly. "Didn't think you'd be the type."

Law nipped at her skin. "I've told you before, Miss Spade. I can use my tongue in different ways, to your pleasure."

Spade's laugh hitched into a halt as Law spread her legs and flexed them so that they were almost pressed to her chest. It would've been uncomfortably vulnerable, being spread open like this, were it not followed by the feeling of Law's tongue going to work. Spade gave an embarrassing yelp at the initial contact, swallowing the sound back hastily, and forced herself to relax. She shut her eyes, welcoming the darkness that let her focus on Law.

The sensation was indescribable; the warmth wetness of his muscle brushed over her clitoris only briefly and Spade's back immediately arched off the mattress, seeking the stimulation. Law's tongue continued at the same spot, and Spade was soon biting her lip so hard she could taste blood. One hand twisted in the pillow under her head, while the other made its way down to Law's head, working its way through his hair. She felt him tense at her touch, but eventually he allowed her to guide him, pressing his face deeper between her legs. She felt so overstimulated that it was almost painful; a wicked heat crawled under her skin that she wanted to slither away from, but if Law stopped now, she would certifiably kill him.

His fingers soon joined his tongue, providing the penetration that Spade didn't even realize she was craving. She let out a breathy moan and thought she heard Law chuckle—she certainly felt it, the vibrations of the sound sending her careening into a mindless abyss, as the two fingers easily slid in and out of her. The pressure in her lower stomach was so tight that Spade whimpered. She was so wet, there was a slight squelch with his movements that would've embarrassed Spade if she weren't on cloud fucking nine.

With one particular thrust of Law's fingers, Spade's orgasm hit like a blinding light that she never recovered from; as Spade's body and mind snapped into pieces, Law did not stop his movements but instead added a third finger inside her and began to use his teeth in addition to his tongue. Spade could only pray that the guards outside had not returned because she was certain everyone in the hall could hear her at this point—her back was so far arched that she barely felt the mattress beneath her anymore, and the sounds she was making bordered sobs. She could not think, could barely breathe because Law had hijacked every ounce of control Spade had over her body and reduced her to a cluster of nerves that only understood overwhelming pleasure.

After what was either one extremely long orgasm or two successive ones, she felt Law finally straighten up. Spade blinked, dazed, as he returned to her view looking infuriatingly smug. Law had such a childish side sometimes, one that showed most obviously when he knew he'd conquered her successfully.

"Are you all right," he asked, licking his lips in a way that made Spade nearly tearful with need.

She nodded, stunned into silence.

"You're came so hard, I thought you'd faint," he smirked, but his breathing was ragged.

Spade realized that he was jerking himself off and made a feeble movement to stop him.

"Inside me," she said, pushing his hand away from his erection.

"Are you sure—"

" _Now_ ," she said urgently, grabbing his face and kissing him deeply, the way she wanted to, no tenderness, just lust and more.

Law let out a groan that sounded close to a "Thank God." He hooked both her knees around his arms and entered her in one fluid motion. Spade held onto his shoulders for dear life, trapped in the oversensitivity of her afterglow that she could not manage much more. Now that he'd made her come more than enough, Spade expected him to just fuck her with abandon, to find a pace he liked and get off as soon as he could. Much to her surprise, Law's thrusts remained controlled and slow, and soon that now familiar heat settled back in her stomach.

She didn't understand. Every movement radiated of Law's consideration for her pleasure, and though Spade had never had to fake an orgasm with Law, the attentiveness was strange, especially when she'd just gotten more than her fair share.

Law settled one arm over her, bracing himself on the headboard as he rolled his hips slowly but deeply. Spade brought her hips up to match every movement and they set an unhurried rhythm. She garlanded her arms around his neck as they moved in unison, each thrust echoed by the dull thud of the headboard hitting the wall. The sound was reassuring, a quiet reminder grounding her in her surroundings: where she was, who she was with, what she was doing, and everything just felt _right_. Law gradually sped up, the thuds following their pace, and soon his body tensed under her touch. He was a beautiful picture, eyes closed, sweat dripping from his skin, mouth open slightly as he struggled to maintain his breathing as his spine clenched and he let out a content sound before his heat spilled inside her.

She kissed him chastely, but Law deepened the kiss as he pulled out carefully before settling both of their bodies back on the mattress, limbs intertwined.

Spade waited several minutes for her heart rate to return to normal. When she opened her eyes blearily, Law had drawn the blankets over them and was looking down at her, his expression unreadable.

"Did you find your answer?" she said, voice hoarse.

"I believe so," he said.

"So what was the question?"

He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Don't worry about it."

Spade didn't press the issue. She had a gnawing suspicion what Law's question was, and she realized that she did not want to hear the answer, regardless of what it was.

She liked Law. It was not news to her—she'd known this for a while now. She'd liked him before she'd starting sleeping with him, and now, she liked him even more.

To call him a distraction was an understatement.

But whether or not she could love Law was a different story entirely.

* * *

When Law was a child of five years, his father, the most esteemed physician of Flevance, gave him a test.

"Here is a snow cone," his father said. "You can either eat it now, or if you wait fifteen minutes, you can eat two."

Law ate his promptly. His father, somewhat disappointed, began to explain that delayed gratification was an important concept to master, especially when children who chose to wait for the second snow cone generally performed better academically.

"But the first cone would've melted in fifteen minutes," Law argued back with that prodigious eloquence of a five-year-old. "And I didn't want two. Two would've made my stomach hurt. Also, snow is really common in Flevance. If I wanted another snow cone, I could just make it myself."

It was a poorly taught lesson, especially when it had proved nothing. Law was the master of delayed gratification, and it was a trait that he carried through his adulthood. Who else could patiently wait thirteen years to enact revenge?

The general principles that waiting made rewards sweeter, or that revenge was a dish best served cold, were unbearably false. Law was confident killing Doflamingo would've felt even better when he was sixteen rather than twenty-six, because it would've given him ten years to obsess about something other than his ex-captain. As patient as Law was, he did not always believe in the amplified rewards promised of delayed gratification.

His case with Spade was a perfect example. If he and Spade had just fucked that first night they'd wanted to, the night of the celebratory party following the Dressrosa victory, Law was certain he would think of Spade the way he thought of Nico Robin—a pleasant lay, a fun time, but nothing more to it. But because both he and Spade had waited, the tension between them had festered, and they'd brewed a relationship that Law was now realizing was more dangerous than rewarding.

In his twenty-six years of living, Law had loved sparingly and carefully. He'd loved Corazon, who had loved him in return, and he loved his crewmembers, who also reciprocated the same feelings. In some terrible, twisted way, Law could admit that at some point in time, he'd even loved Doflamingo and the Donquixote family for giving a purpose and home to a boy whose existence had garnered subhuman treatment from everyone else. It made sense, because Law's love had easily morphed into such intense hatred.

And because Law was good at introspection, because he needed to understand his own weaknesses and faults before anyone else could identify them, Law had come up with the theory that he was beginning to love Spade.

It was foolish. They'd known each other for a matter of weeks, and unlike his crewmembers, she did not pledge an unfailing allegiance to him. But there was no point trying to reason it out, because emotions were stupid things that could never be controlled in their existence, only in their expression. He would have better luck trying to explain why Luffy's brain was also made of rubber than explaining why he was starting to love Spade.

Perhaps it wasn't love. Perhaps it was mere affection. Like. Something more trivial, temporary, and expendable.

But that wasn't it. If anything, what he felt for Spade was different from the love he had for his crewmembers. His attraction to Spade existed despite there being no guarantee of its reciprocation; on the contrary, he ran the risk of being used, manipulated, and betrayed.

This knowledge did not obliterate the existence of his emotions.

It was with this theory in mind that Law had coupled with Spade in a way that started off emotionally uncomfortable for the both of them, but had ended with Law having clarity of his situation. He'd never been a gentle or generous lover, but with Spade, he realized that he _liked pleasing her_ , both inside and outside the bedroom. It was a bizarre experience for him, being considerate of someone else's mood or opinion, and it made him feel weak.

He surmised that Spade had an inkling of his feelings, and if he were optimistic, he would believe that they were returned to some extent. That night in the Whitebeard base, Spade chose to spend her time with him, eating dinner alone with him, sleeping in his bed. Their activities for the rest of the day remained chaste, but Law enjoyed her company regardless. For someone who'd been so tense leading up to this arrival, Spade laughed more that night with him than any time before, and Law temporarily forgot that he was supposed to be in enemy territory, guided by a woman he couldn't trust.

Instead, they lied together on her bed, Law's arm loosely wrapped around her waist, Spade's across his chest, and they fell asleep like fools unaware of the fatality of their choices, like lovers without cares.

* * *

Marco asked to meet Law after breakfast in his office. As cautious as Law was of Marco after the display of his Conqueror's Haki, Law couldn't help but be relieved to be meeting the Phoenix individually. The atmosphere of the previous open meeting had grated Law's nerves, because he truthfully had wanted to cut off the tongues of the majority of players involved. Marco seemed to be levelheaded and reasonable, but his leadership choices were ones Law did not approve of.

Spade guided Law to Marco's office, and Law half-expected her to stay and eavesdrop.

"He rarely asks for individual meetings," she said with a shrug. "If he's finally come around to understanding how useless those open meetings are, I'm not gonna fuck up a private one. Just don't be stupid and piss him off."

"He doesn't seem like the type to get angry easily," Law said honestly.

"He's not. But that tongue of yours can piss a lot of people off, so I'm just giving you fair warning."

Law smirked. "You're not included in that group, I hope, especially after what my tongue did for you yesterday."

Spade glared at him, but Law was pleased to see the faintest pink dust her cheeks. She was not a terribly bashful person, which made the reaction only more humorous.

"Don't be a dick," she muttered, knocking on and opening Marco's door for him.

Law stepped in and the heavy door shut behind him. Marco was seated at a large, finely polished desk swamped in maps, documents, and dog-eared books. The blue cube containing the heart Law had brought was perched on top of a hefty stack of books that, upon closer inspection, were documented blueprints of Marine bases and prisons. Law recognized Spade's handwriting on a fair number of pages scattered across the table, all in code.

Marco looked up from the morning paper and gestured for Law to sit down in front of him.

"Mornin'," Marco said easily. "Hope you slept well."

"I did," said Law, looking around as he took his seat.

"Yeah, guess Spade made sure of that," said Marco with a cheeky grin.

He was not surprised that Marco showed no semblance of jealousy. Perhaps the Phoenix was more mature than that, or his confidence in Spade was rooted deeper than simply sex. Either way, Law had to admit that he was the pettier one, especially when a small part of him had wanted to relish in Spade's choice to stay with him the night before.

Law gave no indication of his immaturity and merely blinked.

"Her company was appreciated," was his bland response.

Marco laughed. "I can imagine. You're lucky she trusts you. No fuckin' way you would've gotten the chance to come here if she didn't."

"I am aware of her worth," said Law.

"I hope so. I hate to be cliché, but if you show any signs that convince me Spade's faith is misplaced, I'll kill you myself." Marco set down his paper and leaned back in his seat, his threat no less frightening despite how casual he appeared. "Now, business, then. I'm acceptin' the alliance offer."

Law stared at him. "Really? What are your conditions?"

"Oh, good, you're not an idiot," said Marco wryly. "First, I need you to finish your Indigo Ring research. From my sources, we still have some time before the Strawhats sail back to Wano. We have a crate of Indigo Ring from a Blackbeard shipment we stole. I'll need you to complete your research before then."

"That's…doable," said Law slowly. "Why though?"

Marco raised an eyebrow, as if the answer were obvious. "If you die to Kaidou, I still need leverage against Blackbeard."

"That's fair," admitted Law. "I don't intend to die, though."

"Doesn't make a difference to me," shrugged Marco. "I need the guarantee, and then we can sail to Wano. The second thing is for you to bring your men here. I need to evaluate them so we can discuss strategy."

"But Burgess's Vivre card will lead them here," said Law dubiously.

"Right, about that."

Marco pulled a gun from beneath the desk. Law immediately lurched back, Room created and prepared to replace the bullet with a sheaf of paper, but Marco pointed the weapon straight at the heart and pulled the trigger. A bang cracked through the air, but the bullet hit its mark with a forceful thump—the heart contracted one last time, then stilled.

"Spade told me about your torture sessions," said Marco lightly, stowing the gun away, "and relayed all the information Burgess gave you about Blackbeard's bases and what they managed to get from the Revolutionary Army. She said that Burgess didn't really have much more to offer, intel-wise."

"We could've exchanged him for a hostage," Law said, stunned. "Leveraged him for more information, anything."

"I don't need anything from Blackbeard other than his head," said Marco icily.

For the first time since they'd met, Law fully understood why Marco was the unconditional leader of the Whitebeard Pirates. His normally airy tone had taken a lethally sharpened edge, and a bright blue flame seemed to hover over his skin. The Conqueror's Haki that had taken out most of his own men had reappeared in a minute, concentrated way, and the casual aura that Marco's ridiculous blonde hair and bright purple vest evaporated with it. Law braced himself for an attack.

"We will not negotiate with Blackbeard," the Phoenix said. "There are no arrangements to be made, no words to be exchanged with the bastard who turned over Ace like he was some common lackey, who waited until our Pops was gravely wounded to deal the finishing blow like a fuckin' coward only to turn into a grave-robber the minute he could."

"My last condition," continued Marco, "was this. I want Spade to announce to the Underworld that she's killed Burgess. His Vivre card burnin' should confirm that for Blackbeard. Spade will make an appearance far from Wano, leadin' Blackbeard's fleet astray while we fight Kaidou."

"You want Spade to be a decoy," Law said.

"Yes. She's not interested in fightin' Kaidou anyway," said Marco seriously.

"That's dangerous," Law argued. "One person fleeing from all of Blackbeard's men—she'll have no back-up."

"I'm not worried 'bout her gettin' caught. She was off the grid for two years. She knows how to hide."

"It's dangerous," Law said through gritted teeth.

"She knows. She's been preparin' for this since Ace died. We all have been." Marco let out a breath and looked out the window of the office. "You're not the one I woulda thought I'd be goin' to war with. But fate works in funny ways." The Whitebeard Commander turned back to Law, gaze serious. "We're allies now. Don't betray us.'

Law nodded stiffly in understanding, but a cold dread sank into the hollows of his chest. Marco's plan made an extraordinary amount of sense, especially since much of the information had been new to him only several hours prior. The Phoenix had successfully addressed each point of Spade's argument against the alliance by utilizing even the most recent information presented to him. Law would've been impressed, were it not for a slight problem that was now swiftly morphing into a catastrophic mistake.

Law had not given them Burgess's heart.


	14. Epithelialization

**Chapter 14** : **Epithelialization**

It was not by luck that Aokiji first found Ava Skye Spade, abandoned in a deserted alleyway in the Lawless Groves of Shabondy Archipelago, the day after he was promoted to Admiral.

Part of the requirements of accepting Admiralship was spending three months on Shabondy, to familiarize oneself with the whims of the Tenryuubito and to be on reserve should Marine forces be called upon. The Shabondy base was by far Aokiji's least favorite base to be stationed at—he'd been chastised more than once about his lackadaisical behavior around the Tenryuubito, and he had no intention of rectifying his attitude.

He had a slow start to the morning, deliberately avoiding Charles, the Nobleman he was supposed to be shadowing. Honestly, as Aokiji strolled through the Groves and munched on a sandwich, he was surprised he hadn't been called earlier about his unpunctuality. When he finally found the Nobleman, Charles was emerging out of a dark alleyway on the back of a human slave, expression bored when he saw the Admiral.

Aokiji reluctantly bowed his head in greeting.

"Ah, you there. You're late. Go and clean up. I can't stand the sound of the screaming."

There was indeed screaming, a high-pitched wail that made Aokiji nauseous—it clearly belonged to a child. Aokiji merely nodded his head and ducked into the backstreet, nearly bumping into another slave guard several steps in. The burly man looked on the verge of tears.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I didn't want to—she's just a child."

Aokiji ignored him and strode quickly down the street, his boots squelching in mud and refuse as the smell of blood reached his nose. He was somewhat impressed Charles had been in this alleyway at all; it was far from pristine.

The screaming and despaired sobbing became louder and more incessant as Aokiji reached the dead-end of the street, where he found a grisly sight. A young girl, surrounded in blood, clutched her legs that were shattered underneath a heavy anchor. Pieces of bone protruded from her skin, jagged edges of marrow and tissue exposed and raw. The body of a comely woman with long dark hair was sprawled near the child, unmoving and still bleeding from a single bullet wound to the head. It was a preferable way to go, compared to what the child was experiencing. Both of them were dressed in fine clothing, and given the company that had just left them, it was not difficult to piece together that this was a nameless wife that the Nobleman had grown bored of. The bastard child was nothing more than a nuisance to eliminate, though it truly was unduly cruel not to end her life in the same way.

Gingerly, Aokiji moved the anchor. The child's screams only intensified with the removal of the weight, which Aokiji tossed to the side as easily as if it were a pillow. At the sight, the girl's eyes widened, and her wails slowly became loud and pained hiccups. Aokiji kneeled down in front of her.

"I can't feel them," she sobbed, tears pouring down her face. "I can't move them."

"They're gone," said Aokiji calmly. "You won't be able to use them anymore."

"Why," she cried. "Why did this happen, my mom, we didn't do anything wrong! It hurts, it hurts…"

Children were never his forte, always loud and unpredictable, but he knew when pity and mercy were warranted. Aokiji opened his mouth to provide some empty words of comfort when he felt it—the slight but undeniable rise of Haki. It was undefined and poorly controlled, but he could sense it, concentrating underneath her skin like a flickering flame.

The girl looked up at him, hatred etched in every contortion of her face as her mouth uttered the words that no child should've been able to say with such conviction,

"I'm going to kill them all."

She looked no more than seven years old; she was in excruciating pain, and she'd just seen her mother murdered in front of her.

But Aokiji believed her.

"Are you one of them?" she whispered, her words startlingly clear despite that her tiny frame was racked in pain.

"No," he said despite not knowing who exactly the 'them' referred to. "I am not."

Aokiji, at thirty-four, was the youngest Admiral appointed in the history of the Marines. Seen by his men as a casual, almost careless superior, Kuzan often heard that his cavalier attitude made it difficult for people to gauge what he really wanted out of his Admiralship. Why ascend so quickly through the Marine ranks if he did not want the Fleet Admiral position in the end?

It was all much more simple than that to Aokiji. He held a moral code, one that he sought to uphold through his strength and his power, regardless of circumstance. The Tenryuubito and the protection the Marines offered them went against that very moral code. Similarly, killing children was also not included.

The easiest thing to do was to bring her to a hospital, then send her to an orphanage, thereby washing his hands clean of this mess.

But Aokiji could see briefly into her future if he were to do so. She would grow up full of hatred, anger, and an uncontrollable Haki that would bubble and fester until one day it consumed her completely. People were not defined by blood, but by their circumstance. This abandoned child who showed the capability of using Haki could become an issue, especially if left unchecked.

"I am a Marine Admiral," Aokiji said. "I am going to take you to a hospital. After that, you have a choice. You can go to an orphanage, or you can come with me to the Marines. I think you have promise, and I can teach you."

"Teach me?" she repeated, green eyes alight. "To do what?"

Aokiji knew that the girl did not need further convincing, but he brought the message home.

"To do what you want. I can teach you how to kill a god."

* * *

Spade sat on the roof of the Whitebeard base, alone except with the wind and her Mushi. She was growing frustrated; both Fujitora and Aokiji still had not contacted her, and she could not decide which she was more worried about. She listened intently to all channels possible of the Underworld for any glimpse of her Hurricane identity being compromised, but she heard none. Fujitora had not revealed her secret, but she could not understand why he had still not left a message, especially since Doflamingo's escape from Impel Down was now weeks ago.

Similarly, Spade double and triple-checked her SOS Mushi to make sure that it was functional. It was, and the red Mushi looked only angrier with her prodding, but Spade was anxious. She'd known from the start that Aokiji's contact would be infrequent with the start of his double-agent role, but she wanted something from him just to confirm that he was well. It would also help assuage Marco's suspicions; he was never fully convinced of Aokiji's loyalty. That Aokiji had saved her from execution was not enough for Marco and Spade could not blame him. She was not terribly skilled at conveying her firm belief in her old mentor—Kuzan was so easygoing about everything that it was difficult to convince even herself sometimes when he was serious. But she knew Aokiji would've never affiliated with Blackbeard on his own accord, and Spade knew down to her very bones that Aokiji was good.

She regretted deleting the last message he'd sent, full of laughs at her idiocy.

Marco joined her out in the open just as Spade hung up her Interceptor Mushi.

"Anything new?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Still nothing. I'm worried."

Marco knew whom she was talking about. "You're always worried. The man wasn't an Admiral for no reason, Spade. He's fine."

"I don't like the thought of him and Doflamingo together," she said thinly.

"Doflamingo ain't that scary," he said breezily.

Spade rolled her eyes. "Not everyone can be freakishly strong like you, Marco."

"True, but Kuzan and I can go head-to-head."

"True," she admitted as she stood up and looked over the edge of the base. "Did you finish talking with Law?"

"Mm. We're joinin' the alliance."

She stared at him. "What? You already decided? You told him? Are you crazy?"

"No," he said easily. "I've thought about everything. I'm gettin' Trafalgar to finish his Indigo Ring research under the guise that we'll need leverage against Blackbeard in case he dies. That'll give me a cure and will also keep my condition under wraps. I'm bringin' his crew here for evaluation and so I can keep an eye on them."

"Burgess—"

"Is dead," Marco interrupted. "I shot his heart. I want you to announce to the Underworld that you did it. Then, when we leave for Wano, I want you to show yourself far away and lead Blackbeard toward you while we fight Kaidou so he won't be anywhere near us for clean-up."

In any other circumstance, Spade would've been proud of Marco. Her mind whirred for a loophole, but all her insecurities relied on her distrusting Law's capabilities, which was a poor bet to make. She knew Law could complete his research in time. Marco, unhindered by the aftershock spasms, was on par with a Yonkou.

This was doable.

He seemed to guess her thoughts for her stupefaction, for he grinned.

"I know, I did a good job," he said lightly. "You can praise me."

Spade scowled at him.

"You're sending me away," she said.

"I am. It makes sense," he said.

"I don't like it, still. I'll be worried about you."

"Me, or Trafalgar?" Marco grinned.

"You, you idiot," she snapped. "I'm always worried about you."

Marco rested his hand on her head. "Don't be. We've been hidin' for too long. It's 'bout time to come outta the shadows. If we pull this off, this'll be a huge way to return." His expression became serious. "I need you to be fuckin' careful. Do _not_ engage Blackbeard. I need you back, alive, in one piece." Marco took her hands in his and grasped them tightly. "We will kill Blackbeard together. And then we'll overthrow the Marines, the Nobility, the World Government."

It was not comparable. Whatever she felt for Law now, whatever she'd felt for him the night before when they'd slept innocently in each other's arms, that peace and quiet and feeling of forgetting, they weren't comparable to what she felt now.

This was what Spade had been working for since Ace had died, but it honestly felt like longer. As if her entire life culminated to this moment, the path to smashing the stagnancy that had lulled since the Summit War. They would dismantle the systems of injustice that had guided this world for far too long.

"It's happening, Marco," she whispered.

He nodded. "It's happenin'."

* * *

Peace was a state of being that had escaped Law for as long as he could remember. There had been times when he'd caught glimpses of this state, when he was with his crew after a great victory, only for it to disappear the next day, when Law was no longer inebriated and had to plan for his next step. It was therefore odd that in the throes of battle preparation, Law found himself close to it now.

The Whitebeard commanders were eager to re-emerge from their solitude and largely agreed with Marco's decision to join the Alliance; they attributed this opportunity to Law, and as such, the hostility toward him gradually diminished. Those who still questioned Law were skeptical of his abilities, but Marco provided ample occasions for Law to prove his worth. He was asked to spar with a different Commander multiple times throughout the day, with Marco observing all the while. Law's ability to fight on par with at least half of the Commanders earned him respect, albeit begrudgingly from some, and the attitude toward him eased.

Law had expected some resentment from Spade, given that she had been the most vocally opposed to the Alliance, but perhaps Marco's thorough planning alleviated her anxiety, for she remained quite friendly with Law. Friendly was likely an understatement. Spade had virtually stopped caring about keeping their relationship a secret, and though she was not a publically clingy person, there were slight actions around others that surprised him: a gentle hand to his cheek, a smile directed toward him and only him, the slight leaning of her body against his when they shared a newspaper. He was unsure of what to do with the familiarity: sometimes it made him uncomfortable; other times, he delighted in seeing this side of Spade, softer and kind, trusting and uncalculating.

As such, Law had gotten everything he'd come to the Whitebeards for and more: Marco had agreed to the Alliance, he was close to finishing his Indigo Ring research, and whatever feelings he had for Spade were clearly reciprocated. Were it not for a curdling guilt that ate at his innards, Law would've admitted that despite being on the brink of a war, he was content, almost happy.

But guilt was a horrific feeling, a gnawing acidity that burned its way through his insides at a terribly sluggish but persistent pace. The issue of Burgess being alive was one that Law laid awake at night debating. Wary of his growing blind spot that contained Spade, Law had brought the heart of a nameless contact as a precaution—walking into enemy territory alone and at the mercy of a woman he'd known for mere weeks was far from prudent. Burgess's heart was therefore leverage that Law had intended to pull should his own life be threatened; he had not, however, expected Burgess's own life to mean so little. It was a poor mistake that was completely uncharacteristic of Law in its shortsightedness but not in its paranoia. Other people's _feelings_ were terribly unreliable, and Law never bet on them if he could help it.

In retrospect, though, he should've known better than to bet against Spade.

That cruel streak and that wildness were very present in her; Law had seen it on multiple occasions, and knew that his own moral ambiguity attracted Spade for this very reason. Yet, Spade constantly decided to do what was right over enacting her own selfish ambitions. Law had reason to suspect that this behavior was not actually second nature but instead a series of conscious choices that, after years of training and proper guidance from appropriate moral compasses, had become close to innate. After meeting Marco, Law realized that the chance of being backstabbed by Spade and the Whitebeards was subzero. It was hard not to like Marco and even harder not to trust him, and it was obvious who Spade's moral compass was.

Hindsight was always 20/20, but unfortunately Law's current situation remained a clusterfuck. The easiest and likely smartest option was to call his crew and have them kill Burgess, but finding time alone to make the call was ridiculously difficult. Law was constantly training, researching, or strategizing with Marco and the other commanders. Even his showers typically had Spade in them, and given that both were so busy, the quick daily fuck was something that neither of them wanted to give up for a moment of solitude.

There was also another slight problem: a little part of Law wanted to keep Burgess alive and exchange him for Doflamingo.

It was a stupid, terrible thought. But things had been going so smoothly for Law that he felt greedy—if he could just have this additional triumph, if he could get _Doflamingo_ as his prisoner…Law's victory would truly be complete.

And so he did not tell Spade or Marco the truth, instead devising ways out of his predicament while trying to keep all his cards. He had until he completed the Indigo Ring research, which gave him several more days as the petal and bulb extracts were purified into capsules through a complex distillation process. He could not stall for long; news had surfaced in the Underworld that Luffy's group had successfully escaped Big Mom. The Whitebeards would need to set sail soon.

It was late at night, now eight days since their arrival at the Whitebeard base, and Law was restless. Beside him, curled up against the wall, Spade slept peacefully, her breaths even. Marco had scheduled her an intensive training regimen, and when Spade wasn't busy with that, she was up on the base's roof, listening to her Mushi and mapping out the route she would lead the Blackbeard fleet on. She was working hard. Law did not want to think what her reaction would be should she find out the truth.

Law let out a breath, feeling stifled. He shifted and sat up, careful in his movements, but behind him Spade stirred.

"Hey," she murmured, voice heavy and drowsy. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he muttered. "Go back to sleep."

Instead, he heard shuffling and the dip in the mattress as Spade scooted behind him.

"Can't sleep?" she asked, breath tickling his ear as she rested her chin on his shoulder.

"I'm fine," he said curtly, standing up and pulling away from her. He needed time alone. "Just need a smoke."

Spade got the hint and lied back down. "Fine. Was gonna offer sex if you couldn't sleep, but be that way."

Law couldn't help but chuckle. At the sound, Spade smiled crookedly up at him.

"Cigs and lighter are in my desk drawer," she said. "But if you want to talk about anything, I'm here."

Law strode to the desk, but instead of leaving the room like he'd originally intended, he went back to the bed and sat down on the edge.

"Want one?" he said, handing her a white stick.

"Yeah." She held her cigarette still as Law lit hers, then his own. "When I get some god-awful disease from these, you'll heal me, right?"

"For a price, certainly."

"Friend discount?" she purred.

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Is that what we are?"

Spade sat up fully and leaned against the wall. She was wearing one of Law's old T-shirts with the yellow Jolly Roger on its front as a sleeping shirt. Her hair waved messily over her face, but lately, the thought that she was beautiful had begun to cross Law's mind. Attraction was one thing, but the compliment bordered reverence—Law was not the reverent type.

"At the least, right?" she said casually as she blew out a ring of smoke.

Law took a deep drag of his cigarette, welcoming the slight burn. "I suppose."

"What, is the fuck buddy's discount more?" she grinned.

Law let out a small laugh. "Perhaps."

He crawled over to her and took the space to her left. Their legs sprawled over the mattress, Law's hanging over the edge. Spade rested her head against his shoulder and Law mirrored the move, placing his temple against the top of her head. The silence was cozy and Law felt his body relax, the irritation that had fueled his insomnia withering into something warmer.

"It's not just me, is it?" Spade said, soft voice breaking the silence. "Feeling…" Her cigarette-occupied hand gesticulated, "whatever this is?"

He could've played dumb. This was an easy conversation to avoid—Spade had already set the tone with the term "fuck buddy." It was easy to veer off this path to dangerous territory.

"No," he heard himself say. "It's not just you."

Spade breathed out and it sounded like relief. "Okay."

Law smirked. "That's it? Okay?"

"Well, didn't really know where you wanted to go from there," she said wryly. "You're about to go to war, I'm about to leave on a potentially fatal decoy mission. Seems like a poor time to talk about…feelings."

"A discussion we're both ill-equipped for," Law noted.

"Yeah. We're both shit at honesty." Spade took a long drag of her cigarette. "How long until you're finished with your Indigo Ring work?"

Law was a bit taken aback by the focus on work. "Several days, perhaps."

Spade nodded. "Okay. Marco wants me to leave a few days before you head out." She looked at him levelly. "We'll talk then."

It was a strange deadline to set, an odd appointment for Spade to pen down in her mental calendar, but Law was grateful that no discussion about feelings was about to unfold promptly. Both of them were equally apprehensive about the prospect, but Spade looked resolute.

"So what kept you up tonight?" she said.

Here it was. An opportunity for honesty, which Spade had just observed they were both shit at. Law could rectify this now with honesty, just tell her that he'd made a mistake and hadn't known how to tell her. This was a problem he could solve easily; they could just call Bepo and have the Heart Pirates kill Burgess and Marco's plan could continue as intended. Law did not need Doflamingo; he'd already won against him, and Kaidou was the bigger fish.

But Law couldn't. He knew Doflamingo and as long as the Heavenly Yaksha was out of shackles, he was cunning enough to manipulate himself back into a position of power. It was only a matter of time before Doflamingo resumed his role terrorizing the innocent and stampeding over Law's decade of work—no, Law could not let this go. It didn't matter if no one else understood. He needed Doflamingo, shackled as his prisoner.

"Law?" Spade said gently.

"I…"

Honesty was as bitter as poison, and Law could not bring himself to swallow it.

"I was thinking about you," he lied.

Spade looked bemused. "What about me?"

"About…about how you are a better person than me." It was not an entirely untruthful thought. "I thought we were rather similar in certain aspects, but recently…" He shrugged. "Perhaps I was mistaken."

"Please, be more vague," she said dryly.

"I merely meant—"

"I know what you meant," she cut in. "I was kidding." She glanced up at the ceiling. "We _are_ similar. We're cautious and paranoid and don't like uncertainty. Robin also says we think too much."

"I meant a little more than that," he said mildly.

Spade sensed that he was suggesting something much darker. Law did not force it; Spade's preferences in the bedroom were already things she struggled with. Reflections on her even more disturbing desires seemed to be an overload of introspection he doubted she was prepared for.

As always, Spade took him by surprise.

"Did you know I was almost kicked out of the Marines twice?"

"No, but I am not surprised. What were your charges?"

"The second was stupid for insubordination," she said lightly, "because I kept digging into the Ohara Buster Call despite explicit orders to drop the case after I was removed from Robin's tracking team. It was the only time Aokiji really got angry with me. Didn't really matter—I left shortly after anyway."

Law chuckled. "And the first?"

Spade didn't answer immediately. "When I was thirteen, we started a torture and interrogation course. And I was…really good at it."

She paused, clearly choosing next words carefully.

"I always had a bit of a temper," she said slowly. "And it wasn't the typical traumatized child lashing out kind of thing. Aokiji always said that sometimes, I just went completely overboard when I was angry, and he couldn't tell if it was really anger…or pleasure." Spade blinked. "When we got to the torture course, I just went ballistic. They always made the scenarios really emotionally charged to justify the use of torture and I came close to killing one of our subjects once."

"When Aokiji heard, I thought he'd want to kick me out too," she continued. "I would've understood. I was a thirteen-year-old whose first instinct to hearing about even a hypothetical moral transgression was to tear a person to pieces. But he didn't. Aokiji taught me right from wrong but cautioned me that justice changes its shape, depending on where you stand. He didn't shame me for my impulses but taught me how to be critical before being compulsive. Without that kind of moderation…who knows where I'd be now." She ground her cigarette stub in a stone ashtray. "There are some people who are purely good and others who are purely evil. But for the majority of us, we fall somewhere in between. It's the choices we make that are good or evil." Her eyes flickered over to him. "We can only hope that they're good most of the time."

Law was silent for a long time after. Spade was not as terrible as honesty as she made herself out to be. He knew she was waiting for his confession, the real meat of his thoughts, but Law did not want to divulge. If choices made were good or evil, then let his simply be—a minor evil to overcome a major one like Doflamingo was a small sacrifice to pay.

He deflected the conversation away from himself.

"The way you speak of Aokiji is different from what I expected," he murmured.

"He was a good teacher. He wasn't like Akainu."

"He tried to execute you."

Spade just gave a thin smile in response.

"My only experience with him was at the Battle of Marineford," Law remarked. "He tried to freeze the ocean as we made off with Luffy."

Spade's smile only grew thinner. "If he'd really been trying, do you think you would've gotten away?"

Law did not know how to answer. Spade smiled up at him and kissed the corner of his mouth.

"You're not a bad person, Law," she murmured. "You've told me you're nice multiple times."

"I was just trying to fuck you," he said.

"Well, you succeeded," she laughed. "Don't worry, Law. I'm not friends with evil people. Now go to sleep."

She slid down on the mattress and rested her head on the pillow. Law followed her, his guilt perched comfortably on a throne inside of him.

Knowing nothing, Spade brought a hand up to comb through his hair. With the movement, Law caught sight of the tattoo on her underarm, the blue outline of a phoenix that he had once thought to be frozen in ice.

* * *

Spade was both the good and bad kind of anxious as she watched Marco examine the box of lilac pills. She and Marco had been practicing Haki meditation in the training room when Law had joined them to present his completed research. An entire shipment of lovely Indigo Rings had boiled down to a measly handful of approximately twenty pills.

"Properties?" The Phoenix lifted one in between his index finger and thumb and squinted at it.

"Five hours of absolutely zero pain, twelve hours of mitigated," reported Law. "It was the best I could do under the time constraints, but with more work, the formula can be adjusted for longer duration. I suspect Blackbeard wants a constant pain reliever for his crew but that's a bit unreasonable. Pain is an evolutionary mechanism for learning—its pathways aren't fully understood."

"Side effects?"

"Unsure, but hopefully none," Law said lightly.

"Seems a little too good to be true. Take a wild guess 'bout the worst that can happen."

"Indigo Ring overdose leads to an almost catatonic state," replied the doctor. "I imagine there could be a refractory period that requires monitoring, potentially fatal bradycardia or respiratory failure. Can't be certain without test subjects, but I suppose we have no need for those since we won't be using them."

Spade could see Marco silently debating something and frowned. "Don't be stupid, Marco."

"I'm not," he said calmly. "If you think about it, I'm really the _best_ test subject for something like this—my body heals itself."

"You are the fuckin' captain of the Whitebeard Pirates, not a lab rat—"

Marco completely ignored her and swallowed a pill dry.

"What the fuck," Law said, stunned.

"What?" said Marco innocently. "It's not like you poisoned them, right? I can't be poisoned, by the way, so if you're tryin' to off me, bad plan."

"I'm not, but what kind of—"

"Why are you so stupid?!" Spade all but shouted, furious. "Spit it out!"

"Nah, if these things work, they're priceless," Marco said cheekily. "All right, Spade. Time to test. Get your Kairouseki cuff on, we're gonna fight."

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"Nope," said Marco, taking a set of cuffs from off the wall and tossing one at her. She caught it and glared at him. "It's been a while since we fought. You're goin' solo and I need ya to be able to fight your way out if ya get caught. Hand-to-hand combat, no Devil's Fruit abilities, just Haki."

She scowled and clipped her cuff on her right wrist. Marco typically oversaw her training, especially when it came to Haki manipulation, but the corporal contact often required Marco to contort in ways that triggered his aftershock spasms more often. With Law around, Marco had assigned Blenheim as Spade's training partner ("You still fight poorly when you're emotional—Blenheim pisses you off so practice with him."). This would be the first time Law would see Marco in action.

"This is a bad idea," she hissed at him as Law cleared the arena's floor. "You have no idea if this will work and if Law sees you in a spasm—"

"Stop worrying," he said breezily. "I see the way you look at 'im—there's no way you really believe he'd betray us."

"That's not the point."

"I'm trustin' your gut, Spade. Plus, I really just think this'll work." Marco placed the Kairouseki on his left wrist. "Somethin' tells me Law is pretty smart."

"And you're not."

Marco just smirked and stepped ten paces away. He stretched out his arms lazily.

"Come."

Spade gritted her teeth but dove in, Haki flitting through her limbs in precise bursts depending on her offense. The entire Whitebeard team trained like this often, Haki only, no Devil's Fruits. Given that Blackbeard's Yami Yami no Mi negated other Devil's Fruits abilities while gravitationally drawing people toward him, the ability to fight in close quarter combat was crucial. Even Logia users like Spade, who typically thrived from afar, needed to be able to defend and offend with Armament Haki effectively to do any damage to the Yonkou.

Marco was a naturally gifted and experienced combatant who, despite his smaller stature compared to many of the other Whitebeards, had never been bested in a close-combat duel. His Devil's Fruit ability could not be used offensively, which had forced Marco to adjust for offense through flawless Haki control. Spade strove to emulate it, though even after many years, its perfection escaped her.

They traded blows slowly at first. Spade was wary of Marco's condition, for despite his bravado, she was certain that he would not want Law to see him in a spasm. She wasn't even sure if all of the commanders knew about them; Marco had once suffered silently through an hour-long meeting with only a stony-faced expression and the faintest sheen of perspiration. Only after the meeting had concluded did Spade learn that he'd had an attack for the last half hour.

She aimed an easy punch to his face with her left hand, expecting his equally simple block before she followed immediately with a rapid uppercut. Marco leaned back slightly, her fist passing millimeters away from his chin, before he brought his knee to ram into her side effortlessly. Spade dodged in an ungainly manner, only for Marco to grab her by the waist and body slam her straight into the ground. Pain shot up her entire back and she gasped, dazed, but Marco was relentless. He straightened up and plunged a fist straight down, forcing her to roll away and propel back onto her feet.

"You're sloppy," he said. "If you're going easy on me 'cause you're worried, I'm gonna be pissed."

Spade dodged Marco's quick punches by ducking low and swinging her leg out, then upward in a kick. She caught his chest but felt her kick thud into his skin like she had hit a steel wall; her legs whirred to life and Marco's eyes narrowed as the mechanical aids crashed with further force. He leapt back, unfazed. Spade sped directly toward him, braking at the last split second before pivoting behind him. The added acceleration gave her a tremendous amount of centrifugal force to her kick; Marco did not dodge but instead reinforced his Armament Haki. The clash of her leg with his back led to a resounding booming force that would've pushed them meters away from each other, had Marco not whipped around immediately after to grab her ankle indecorously in the exchange.

"The fuck—"

"Blackbeard would do this to ya, Spade."

He yanked her upward without another notice. Spade felt her stomach lurch as her world turned upside-down; she felt the humiliating sensation of being suspended in the air like a ragdoll for a brief millisecond before she curved upward, furious, and sank her fingers into his wrist, each digit burning with Haki until she heard bones crack. Marco let go immediately, skidding backward as his right wrist hung stiffly at an awkward angle. Spade flipped and landed on her feet.

"Where'd you learn that?" he said.

"Saw Sabo from the Revolutionary Army do it Burgess in Dressrosa," she said. "His went through metal."

"Nice," said Marco, studying his broken wrist appreciatively without any sign of being in pain. "Good improv. You rely too much on your legs and it becomes predictable. Use your arms, too."

Marco took off his Kairouseki cuff. Spade arched an eyebrow.

"We're done?"

"For now."

The bright blue flames of his Phoenix form surrounded his right wrist immediately. A sickening snap sounded through the arena and the aura disappeared, leaving his wrist as good as new.

"And?" Spade said cautiously.

"No pain," he said casually. "Wouldn't have let go of you if I hadn't heard my wrist crack. Needed to heal it early so it wouldn't reset funny."

"What's wrong with your back?" said Law sharply.

The surgeon approached Marco swiftly, and Spade rushed to his side. Every muscle in Marco's back was twitching visibly and frenetically; he was clearly in the middle of a spasm, its epicenter right where Spade's kick had hit him, but he looked comfortable.

"Are you all right?" Law asked, clearly concerned.

"I'm really fine," said Marco. "No pain. Your pills work. Just stiff."

"Stiff enough that you had to stop," said Spade frantically.

Friendly blue flames erupted over Marco's profile, and he looked at her kindly.

"Not enough that I can't use my Phoenix form. I'll be fine."

"What's going on?" demanded Law.

"I have a slight condition," the Whitebeard commander said easily.

"Marco," Spade said warningly.

"It's fine, Spade. We're goin' into battle with this guy. He should know what he's gettin' himself into."

Law's gray eyes narrowed. "This is why you didn't want to fight Kaidou."

"In the Payback War, I got hit by Blackbeard's earthquake head-on," Marco explained. "I survived, which I'm pretty sure no one else would've, but I've had these aftershock spasms since then. Can't tell exactly what causes 'em, but twistin' in funny positions suddenly can trigger 'em, and I can't do shit when they happen."

Law glowered at them. "So you wanted the Indigo Ring research to try for yourself. You should've told me this."

"Not like you wouldn't hide it if you were in my position," said Marco wryly.

"What is wrong with you and Spade in this regard—I'm a fucking doctor. I can't treat you unless I actually have your history! The Indigo Ring isn't a cure; it merely masks the pain. The spasms are clearly still happening, and that alone can be dangerous."

"As long as I can get myself to safety, I'm fine," said Marco with a wave of his hand.

"It's not," he said curtly. "You need to stay hydrated. Constant muscle contractions can lead to rhabdomyolysis."

"Normal words for normal people, please."

"Kidney failure," Law snapped.

"What is up with you and kidneys?" said Spade curiously.

Law rounded on her, clearly irritated that she and Marco had hidden a very important medical detail from him. "What?"

"That's what you told me could happen if I got septic from that cut on my shoulder," she said thoughtfully, "and if you had to cut off my arm and manage kidney failure as a result. How are these things even related? Is kidney failure even real? Or is it like the bogeyman for doctors?"

"Are you serious, Spade—"

"Yeah," agreed Marco, "like really, how d'you go from back spasms to somethin' like rhabdo-blah-blah-blah? Is that even a real word?"

"You know," she said seriously, "if I didn't know any better, I'd think that your favorite organ isn't the heart but actually _the kidneys_. Imagine that. You should be _The Kidney Pirates_."

"What the fuck—forget it," Law bit out. "Fuckin' go die for all I care."

"Really, Kidney Pirates!" she called out as Law left the training grounds muttering a string of curses. "Remember me when you rebrand!"

Marco chuckled as the door shut behind Law, and she turned to him, more somber.

"You're okay? Seriously okay?"

"Yeah, I feel fine," he said consolingly. "I'll even get Doc to monitor me later. That make you feel better?"

She frowned. "Stop acting like you do this for me."

Marco laughed softly. "Partially, maybe." He gently placed his hand on her head. "Thanks for worryin' though."

She smiled sadly at him. "It's time for me to leave, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I fuckin' hate this part."

"Me too."

"We'll have a big feast tonight. Send you out properly."

"So I can fly hungover, sounds like a great idea."

He laughed again, but the way he looked at her bordered pitying. "Sorry, Spade."

"What for?"

"I know things have been goin' well with Trafalgar. You've looked…" He shrugged. "You've looked happy recently. Sorry to split ya apart."

"Nothing you need to be sorry for," she murmured, but something in her went cold at the thought. She and Law would have to talk tonight. "We have bigger things to care about."

"Yeah. And I hate sendin' you alone. But it's happenin', Spade. I need you back to me safe and sound, so be careful."

"I will be." She hugged him tightly. "Love you, Marco."

He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Love you too."

* * *

Spade spent several hours in the library, doing some last minute research while tuning into Underworld News, before she returned to her bedroom. The news that she had killed Burgess had circulated quietly before being picked up by more verified channels; another channel reported that Blackbeard was setting out to pursue her personally. As hateful as she found Teach, she knew he fought for his friends, too.

The joviality that had buoyed her mood for the last week had slowly been replaced by a heavy solemnity. She would fly out the next morning, so she set immediately to packing her personal belongings: new Burner Mushi, a fresh notebook, and after careful perusal, some choice maps and a New World Log Pose. She was somewhat surprised that Law wasn't in the room, but at the same time was grateful for the solitude. She was dreading the upcoming conversation.

She was going to tell Law that she loved him.

Maybe she wasn't _in love_ with him, and it certainly didn't feel like what she'd felt for Ace, but it was something different and something _real_. Telling Ace she loved him had been easy and safe because Ace would've never trampled over her vulnerability. Spade honestly didn't think Law would either, but the hesitation remained. She knew she was forcing it a bit; if she were sailing to Wano with the rest of the Whitebeard crew, she wouldn't have said a word. She would've continued doing whatever they were doing, this easy, relaxed and undefined relationship, and let it grow on its own accord.

But Spade had made a great mistake with Ace in taking his life for granted, had made the stupidest mistake of her life by leaving him without telling him everything she should've. Even if what she felt for Law was only the barest kindling of what could potentially happen, she did not intend to wait until Law was dead to go through the same realizations of regret. As ridiculous as it was that she could love Law after such a rocky, barely few months of knowing each other, she knew that what she felt was real, especially given how infrequently it happened to her. And as vulnerable as this was going to make her, looking at Law sometimes made Spade think that the man deserved a bit more validation of his existence than even he expected.

The door behind her opened, and Spade set her bag down on the desk as she turned to face him.

"Hey."

"Hey," he said gruffly, setting down his black medical bag.

"Done examining Marco's kidneys?" she joked.

"You can't just—forget it," he scowled.

"I'm kidding," she said. "Is he okay?"

"Overall, yes. There is a slight refractory period," Law said. "About an hour of hyporeflexia, non-emergent bradycardia, basically parasympathetic overactivation."

"Law, please."

"His body slows down for about an hour after the initial five hours," he rephrased. "He's not in pain, but he needs to be careful. I told the Whitebeard Doc and made notes in Marco's chart. We'll need to monitor him each time he takes it. We don't know its full effects."

Spade nodded. "Thank you."

Law sighed and approached her. "It's my job. I take being a doctor seriously, Spade. Political secrets and whatnot, hide them as you will. But if I'm going to be part of a team, I need to know medical history. I won't abuse it, you have my word."

"Marco's history isn't mine to give," she said.

Law looked at her sharply. "I'm referring to your Impel Down spasms."

"Oh. I thought we were past that."

"I thought so too," he said finely, "but Marco's situation reminded me of it and made me irritated again."

He strode past her and sat down in her office chair, where he noticed the bag on her desk. He looked up at her, concerned.

"You're packing?"

"Marco wants me to leave tomorrow," she said softly.

"…I see. When?"

"Morning, probably. After we party all night first."

Law scoffed but said nothing. Spade finished putting some maps in the bag, mind turning over her next words.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Law, can we talk for a bit?"

"Certainly."

"First," a lump lodged in her throat, "please watch out for Marco. I know he's got fifteen other commanders watching him but another pair of eyes won't hurt, and you know his condition now so just make sure he's not overdoing it so he doesn't collapse in the middle of flying or—"

"I'll watch out for him," said Law, cutting in before she spiraled. "Don't worry."

"All right."

"…Anything else?"

 _I love you. Or, I think I love you. Or, I really care for you. I think you're a better man you give yourself credit for. You're a better man than I gave you credit for._

"Take care of yourself too," she said quietly.

Law's gaze softened and he tugged her into his lap. He brought a firm hand to her neck and the other to the curve of her back as he kissed her gently. Spade returned it, body yearning for more and her heart throbbing almost painfully. She did not feel safe about leaving. She was nervous, and there was a gut feeling that made her frightened, but she did not know what of. Perhaps this was the last night she'd have with Law. Perhaps she would die. Perhaps Law would.

"Hey," he said, stopping the kiss and grasping her tightly. "You're shaking."

"Ah." She inhaled deeply, trying to stabilize her trembling limbs. "Sorry."

He ran the hand at her back up and down her spine. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," she breathed deeply. "I'm okay."

"…Are you afraid?" he said, voice neutral.

"Yeah. Just don't know of what."

"You're going against a Yonkou alone, it's normal to be scared."

"I've been on solo recon missions before," she said. "It's not the same."

"Spade—"

"I think I love you," she said in a rush.

Law stared at her, gray eyes wide. She saw the gamut of emotions run through them—disbelief, then understanding, shifting to wariness—Law was such a steel, locked tower of emotions that could not handle any warmth. This was a man who surrounded himself with crewmen who loved him, lived his life in the stead of a benefactor who had loved him enough to give up his life and even an entire nation for him, and still Law did not believe he deserved it without strings attached.

"Don't ask why," she said. "Don't ask what for. I don't have answers. It's just what I think I feel. And it's premature, I know. But I'm leaving tomorrow and I don't know if I'll ever see you again, so I wanted you to know."

Law was still speechless, which caused Spade to let out a little laugh. She felt so unstable, even though she was in Law's arms and he wouldn't let her fall. She didn't even know what she wanted—she hadn't thought that far. Law's feelings weren't part of her consideration; she'd just wanted Law to know her own.

"That's it," she said, attempting to extract herself from his hold. "When you remember how to use your tongue, you can find me."

Law grabbed her tightly by the hips and he pulled her down for a bruising kiss completely different from the one before: open-mouthed, teeth and tongue, desperate. The reaction surprised her but relieved her more; Spade kissed him back so hard their teeth clashed and she didn't know if they were really kissing or just trying to devour each other. His hands practically tore her shorts off her and she fumbled for the zipper of his jeans; his half-hard cock sprang into her palm, and with only a few deft movements, rose to its full potential.

Law did not bother undressing them any further. He grabbed her ass and pulled her so that her warmth met his cock; in what had to be their record for shortest foreplay, he lifted her up and sank her around his length quickly. Spade gasped, trying to slowly ease around his erection, but Law let out a close to animalistic growl and slammed up into her completely. She whimpered, pain searing between her legs, and the sound finally caused Law to understand.

He nipped the skin lining her jaw and brought a hand under her shirt to fondle her. She felt her bra be loosened so his hand could slip over her breast, and with several carefully timed thrusts and pinches of her nipples, Spade's whimpers morphed to moans. Her desire made Law's intrusion inside her more comfortable, and she began to move up and down his shaft on her own, causing him to groan in satisfaction. A hand at her ass gripped roughly and shoved her so she was seated firmly on his length. Spade hissed, resisting the push so she could set the pace on her own. She slowed the movement of her hips to a careful, circular roll that had Law gritting his teeth.

"Fuck," he gasped.

He responded by taking her shirt into both of his hands and ripping it into two pieces; he tore both the fragments and her bra off of her before burying his face between her breasts, tongue hot and slick as he interchanged the muscle with teeth with his sucks. Spade was completely flush against him. She tried to keep the controlled pace of her thrusts but they became gradually more erratic as Law teased her flesh, his tongue making quick work of her control when it attended to her nipples. Spade let out a sound that indicated to Law that her defenses were ruined; he took over the rhythm of their thrusts, his hands finding her hips to move her at a pace he liked while Spade held on helplessly to his shoulders.

Law sucked her left breast until it was painful, letting go of her nipple with a slight pop only when Spade whined. He leaned back in the chair, his hands and own hips controlling their movements, while he watched her.

"You're incredible," he rasped.

She didn't know how to respond to that. She imagined that she looked exactly how she felt, completely naked against Law's fully clothed body, down to his stupid fur hat.

Law did not seem to expect an answer. Their pace quickened and Spade could feel the familiar pressure in her lower abdomen build until it spilled over between her legs; she came with a guttural sound close to a scream and remained there, hands splayed against Law's shoulders, as he fucked her through her orgasm to his own that followed.

She was going to miss seeing Law's face as he came.

Spade kissed him as he recovered from his high, comforted when he returned the gesture tenderly. When they broke apart, Law rested his chin against her shoulder. Seconds ticked by, but neither made a movement to detach from each other.

She was afraid to move.

Law's lips pressed gently against her neck.

"You truly are a better person than me," he said hoarsely.

Her heart dropped to her stomach. There was going to be a 'but,' and no matter how nice the words that preceded a 'but' were, they were worth nothing once they were countered.

Law leaned back in the chair, and the look in his eyes was clear.

"I think I've loved you for some time now," he whispered.

For the first time in years, Spade's heart felt full.

* * *

Marco had not been kidding when he said that the Whitebeards would throw Spade a feast before her departure. The grand dining hall of the Whitebeard base was crowded with food, people, and noise. The remaining Whitebeard captains had returned to the base, making what Law thought was a disorganized group even more raucous. Spade, as the banquet's honoree, was swept up in a series of celebratory shots and drinks, and it did not take long for her to convince Law to join.

Spade loved him.

He could hardly believe it. Not that she did, but that she would admit it aloud. She was, in all ways, an incredible woman. How foolish it was to admit emotions aloud, to speak them into truth.

Flushed with alcohol, Spade laughed easily and loudly as they sat with the returning Commanders, who eyed the way she leaned against Law interestedly.

"Trafalgar Law?" said Izou. The Sixteenth Division Commander hid behind a fan as he peered at Law curiously. "He didn't strike me as your type…"

Spade grinned as she nursed a beer. "He's a little moody, isn't he?"

"Fuck off, Spade," said Law lightly as he downed his own drink.

"See," she said pointedly. "Moody!"

"A disappointment," sighed Rakuyo, stroking his long mustache.

"That's rude, Rakuyo."

"Not Trafalgar himself, per se. We're just disappointed you didn't claim someone higher up the totem pole," Vista explained.

Spade frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, no offense to Trafalgar, but we were hoping our only marketable female would bait in bigger fish…"

Namur grinned, showing rows and rows of pointy teeth. "Yeah, my money was on Shanks."

Spade abruptly spat out her beverage.

"Money?!" she snapped. "Shanks?!"

"There may be a bet going on," said Marco innocently as he approached them after making his rounds greeting all the major Division Commanders and Vice Commanders. After briefing everyone on their next moves, Law could easily tell that all Whitebeards were relieved to be going to war, and as a result, they took his presence amongst them much better. The antagonism between Spade and any Commanders seemed to have diminished as well, especially since the solo mission she was about to embark on was clearly dangerous.

" _You started this, didn't you_."

"Well, we couldn't ever be a real thing," said the Phoenix seriously. "So we thought…Big Mom uses marriages for political alliances all the time."

"You were going to sell me off," Spade said, disbelief and betrayal on her face. "Like some common whore, like _cattle_."

"We weren't _selling_ you, it was clearly your choice!" Izou protested.

"Oh c'mon, Spade," laughed Vista. "D'you think a common whore could land Shanks? Give yourself some credit!"

"Fucking Christ, why am I friends with any of you," she said wearily.

"It was a joke," interjected Marco soothingly. "A way to encourage you to move on."

"Yeah, like you really helped in that regard," she snipped.

"I was always in support of you finding someone else, Spade."

"Fuck you, Marco. Fuck _all_ of you."

Law cleared his throat, feeling slightly awkward in that he should've really been offended but was not in a position to express this offense. The sound drew the attention back to him, and Marco grinned cheekily at him.

"Sorry 'bout that," he said easily. "It's all good an' fun."

"I just find it rude that no one finds it surprising that Spade could land _me_ ," Law said, deadpan.

The Commanders howled with laughter and even Spade smirked.

"We're here fuckin' with Yonkou," Marco chortled. "You think your Shichibukai ass had a chance with our fuckin' Hurricane before your Dressrosa stunt?"

"I'm a treasure, thanks."

"You are," Spade laughed, kissing his goatee. "All right, boys, another round and I gotta crash. Gonna head out early tomorrow."

"C'mon, you can do a couple more."

"No fuckin' way."

"I'm gonna head back to the room," Law murmured in her ear. "Gonna call my crew."

"Yeah, be there in a bit."

He left the festivities for Spade's room, drawing further and further away from the loud shouts and cheers. Law honestly had not drank very much. He was too busy debating internally.

Marco had asked Law to tell the Heart Pirates to meet at a nearby island, where one of the Whitebeard Commanders could meet and escort them to the actual base. The moment of truth had arrived; Law needed to decide what to do with Burgess. Kill him, and lose Doflamingo. Keep him alive and risk the Whitebeards, but with Spade heading out tomorrow, perhaps the Blackbeards would be distracted enough with her presence to follow her instead of a Vivre card.

Law entered the bedroom and searched briefly among Spade's belongings for the Interceptor Mushi. He dialed in his crew's number and waited impatiently for someone to pick up.

"Spade?" said Bepo's voice excitedly.

"It's me, Bepo," said Law.

"Captain! We were so worried! You haven't been in contact!"

"Yeah, too risky to be Tapped. We'll have to keep this short as well. You need to set sail for an island nearby. Namur will meet you there—he can guide you even when submerged."

"Cool!"

Law gave the coordinates and heard Bepo scratching the numbers down. "How's everything?"

"It's okay. Blackbeard keeps callin' but we haven't picked up. He probably knows we have Burgess."

"Not necessarily. He could think we were attacked by Spade too."

"Oh, true. Well, Burgess knows the truth anyway. He keeps yellin' all the time."

"No problems with getting tracked by Blackbeard's men, right? Or any problems with Burgess himself?"

"Nope, nothin'. We're submerged most of the time, and we can outrun pretty much anyone when we're underwater."

"True," murmured Law.

"Any other orders, Captain?"

 _Kill Burgess._

But he didn't _need_ to. He could ask the stronger half of his crew to join the Whitebeards for evaluation and the other half to continue hiding in the Polar Tang underwater, where Blackbeard wouldn't be able to find them. If he just talked to Spade and Marco, explained to them that even if Burgess wasn't valuable to the Whitebeards, Law could use him for Doflamingo, he was sure they'd understand. Spade had always been considerate of his hatred of Doflamingo.

Law could truly have everything.

"No," he said to Bepo swiftly. "I want half of you to join Namur at the Whitebeard base. The other half continue submerged with Burgess. Choose an unpredictable sailing pattern—I don't want you getting caught."

Bepo didn't question him, even though Law was sure he had plenty of reason to. "Aye-aye, Captain."

"See you soon, Bepo. Stay safe."

"You too, Captain!"

Law hung up the Mushi and breathed out a sigh of relief. This was doable.

A blinding pain suddenly hit the back of his neck and Law crumbled onto the desk in front of him. He created a Room mid-fall, but felt something heavy clack over his wrist and the Room disappeared. A hand roughly grabbed him by his collar and shoved him face first onto the table. He could see the glint of Kairouseki on his wrist.

He'd been in this position before. The warm wind that he now noticed made the assailant obvious.

Spade's voice held none of lighthearted inebriation of earlier. She was deadly, fury latent but palpable, though the knife pressing into his skin was steady.

"You have ten seconds to tell me why Burgess is alive, or I will kill you."

And despite that she had told Law she loved him only hours earlier, Law believed her.


	15. Necrosis

**Chapter 15** : **Necrosis**

* * *

 _trigger warning_ : _mention of rape & sexual assault. please proceed accordingly._

* * *

"Kill him."

"Why?" said Marco wearily. "There's no point."

"What do you mean, _there's no point_ ," she snarled. "He lied to you, he has Burgess on his ship and was going to bring him here so Blackbeard could find you—"

"You heard me tell Bepo to leave half my crew on the Polar Tang with Burgess," interjected Law, surprisingly composed despite that he was bleeding rather profusely from his neck. The knife Spade held in her hand made it clear who had inflicted the injury. "I wasn't going to lead Blackbeard here. It was an honest mistake, Spade, and a stupid one, but I wanted to keep Burgess so I could exchange him for Doflamingo. That's it."

It was just the three of them in Spade's bedroom. Marco had stopped by Spade's room to wish her farewell when he had walked in on Spade holding a Kairouseki-cuffed Law against her desk, blade dripping at his neck. It had not taken much time for Spade to explain in short bursts of anger what had happened, and Marco could not blame her reaction.

Law now sat in office chair, Spade to his right and fingering her dagger lovingly.

"Why didn't you just tell us that earlier then?" said Marco.

"I was going to just now. It wasn't something I could hide, especially if Namur was going to pick up my crew. Earlier this week, I just…hadn't decided what I wanted to do yet," said Law, resigned. "I didn't want to cause trouble, especially if I simply decided to kill Burgess anyway."

"Kill him," said Spade coldly. "I'll do it. I brought him here, he was my mistake."

"You're jumping the gun," said Marco, eying Law's wound concernedly. "He's making sense."

"How?" she said indignantly. "He betrayed us!"

"You trusted him enough to bring him here, Spade."

"Trusted," she emphasized the past tense with a feral sneer. "The whole reason I decided to bring him here was because he gave me Burgess's heart, but that was a lie, because each time I give Trafalgar Law a chance, he just shows me that he's a piece of shit who wasn't ever worth my time. I swear to God, the biggest mistake I've ever made was not letting Doflamingo just smash his face in when he had the chance."

Marco was studying Law carefully and thought he saw the barest flinch at Spade's words, but Spade could barely look in his direction. She was trembling, livid, but more than anything, she was deeply hurt. Marco could already see the gates slamming closed on any hope for Spade to return to a normal state; it had taken too much time for her to catch the barest glimpse of happiness after Ace's death, and even then, Ace had not betrayed Spade's trust the way Law had.

The Phoenix wanted to pick Law up and smash him into a wall. Law's mistake cost so much more than anything he could have potentially gained from it, because Doflamingo was not valued at even a fraction of Spade's stability.

"You told me you knew her worth," Marco said to Law coolly.

"I do," Law said quietly.

"Apparently not. Do you know what you've just done?"

Law glanced over at Spade, who simply glared at Marco. "I am beginning to understand."

"That isn't the fucking point," Spade snapped. "This isn't about my fucking stupid feelings or shit—he _lied_ to you Marco, he would've continued lying if I hadn't caught him."

"I swear, I was about to find you—"

"So what?!" she shouted, finally rounding on him. "Do you really understand what you've done?! Hurricane announced to the Underworld that Skye Spade killed Burgess _a week ago_ —Blackbeard is reportedly setting out to find me, but he knows that Burgess isn't dead because of his fucking Vivre card! That's twice now in less than a month Hurricane has released false information about me—it won't take much for people to realize who Hurricane is!"

Spade's grip on the hilt of her dagger was so tight her knuckles were white. Marco understood her logic. Hurricane was an entity that had taken the bulk of the last nearly three years for Spade to build, and it was Spade's biggest asset in the grand scheme of a war where many outclassed her in strength.

Yet, killing Law was largely useless. Marco was irritated by Law's manipulation but was also not unduly bothered by it. Truthfully, he was not completely surprised. Law had walked into enemy territory alone and needed a plan to get out of it if he were threatened; it was a move that had insulted Marco's integrity but had also been largely pragmatic. Though, if Law had simply trusted Spade the way he was supposed to, this could've all been avoided, especially if Law had truly understood who Spade was at her core.

"I apologize for that," Law said. "Hurricane was not something I considered."

"Because you only consider your own fucking self," she snarled.

"Maybe, but I never want to hurt you, Spade—"

"Well, that doesn't fucking matter, does it? Who the fuck cares if that's not what you want, Law, every fucking time you end up doing it! You hurt others without even trying, just like Doflamingo, except at least that bastard doesn't even _try_ to pretend to be something he's not!"

That flinch was unmistakable now. Spade saw, but Law's weakness seemed to only fuel her flame. Marco intervened.

"Stop," he said tiredly. "Trafalgar, this was a fucking dumbass choice you made."

Law blinked. "I realize that."

"Only because you got caught."

"Yes," he said honestly. "But I truly was going to tell you everything. It was not a choice I could've hidden. You must understand the veracity of that."

"I do. Which is why we're not gonna kill you."

Spade's hand twitched. "Marco—"

"The plan doesn't change," Marco overrode her. "Namur will go find the Heart Pirates tomorrow and kill Burgess. Then they'll be brought here. Trafalgar cares for his crewmates—even if he were a traitor, he wouldn't risk the life of his crew."

"No," said Spade icily.

"We're not gonna kill him."

"He's sure as hell not staying near you when I'm gone. I'll take Law to his crew tomorrow. I'll kill Burgess. The Heart Pirates will sail to Wano on their own."

"There's no reason to—"

"Blackbeard has tailed the Polar Tang for over two weeks now," she snipped. "If there are enemies nearby, I'm sure as hell not leading them straight here, nor will I jeopardize a Whitebeard commander for my mistake. If you want to keep this fucking stupid Alliance even after this, fine. But keep it in Wano with people you can actually trust. Law's time here is done."

"You're putting that crew at risk," said Marco warningly, "especially if Blackbeard is nearby. Kaidou is trying to find them too."

Her eyes glinted like polished Kairouseki. "So be it. I guarantee you, if you keep him here, he will not be any safer."

Marco repressed a shudder. He was sensing it again, that disconnect between him and Spade when she became like this: recalcitrant, clouded in fury and blinded by what she deemed to be a grave injustice. He did not doubt her words. The easiest and safest course of action was to agree with her, lest she truly injure Law.

"Fine," he said. "You'll take him back to his crew tomorrow morning. You will only kill Burgess and you will _not_ hurt anyone on that crew."

"Fine. I'll stand guard tonight."

"No. I'll assign others. You're comin' with me." Marco looked to Law. "I hope you realize just what a dumbass mistake this was."

Law brought a hand up to his neck, where the blood flow had slowed to a trickle and was beginning to congeal. "I do."

Marco had to grab Spade's wrist and drag her out of the room, so reluctant she was to let Law out of her periphery. She followed him stiffly back to his room, deathly silent, and Marco braced himself for an onslaught—of tears, of shouts, he couldn't be sure—when he shut his bedroom door behind him.

Spade said nothing. Her eyes were dry, her brow furrowed and her fists clenched, her dagger still in hand. She stood so unbendingly that the slightest pressure would surely crack her into pieces.

Marco reached down and wrested the blade from her hold, setting it aside on his desk.

"Breathe," he said softly.

The command led to a short gasp of air; Spade must not have even realized she had been holding her breath. Her body began to shake with each shallow and rapid intake of oxygen.

"It was stupid," he said. "But it wasn't malicious. He wasn't tryna betray us."

"Yes," she said, convicted, "he was. He _is_. He will hurt you the moment he thinks he can get something more."

"You're overreactin'."

Spade's gaze snapped up to him, but before she could say anything, Marco raised his arms in supplication.

"Listen to me," he said calmly. "I don't mean it in a dismissive way. You should be mad. It was fuckin' stupid of him. But it wasn't personal. He wasn't tryna fuck you over. If he was honestly tryna hurt the Whitebeards, he wouldn't have given you back your heart. He woulda killed you the moment he could."

"He wanted you," she said bitterly. "You're worth so much more."

"He can't kill me. He knows that too." Marco took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully so that he could walk Spade back from the edge of this precipice. "Killing you would've been the biggest blow to me, especially because he knows you're Hurricane. And because he knows how much you mean to me."

Spade shook her head. "He betrayed you."

"He made that choice before he'd even met me. It was stupid, but I get it. If you'd reversed the situation…well," said Marco thoughtfully, "that's a bad example because I'm pretty sure I could beat his crew with one hand. But if you'd sent me to Aokiji in a similar situation, I probably woulda done the same thing. It wasn't you, Spade. He was thinkin' for himself and it was dumb because he shoulda trusted you, but it was an understandable mistake. You are hurt and you should be. But I think…part of you is lookin' for a reason to hate him."

"What are you talking about?"

"You wanted this to be temporary. You said he was a distraction. You've been lookin' for any reason to call this quits. And stupidly, he just handed you one. But it's not worth it, Spade. It's not worth killin' him, and honestly you can be mad, but it's not worth hatin' him for."

Spade looked up at him, broken. "I told him I loved him."

Marco stared, shocked. That was not what he'd expected. Like, sure, Spade seemed to like Law. But love? It had progressed so quickly, Marco couldn't be sure if he could trust the sentiment. War made people hasty, but it had to be true to some extent, for Spade to verbalize it aloud and direct it to Law, no less.

"So yeah," she said desperately, "maybe I do get to hate him. For not believing in me. For thinking I would hurt him when I've done everything I can to show him otherwise."

She leaned her forehead against Marco's chest, angry bravado now replaced by a fragile vulnerability, glass that could shatter with the slightest breeze. Marco held her gently. Fucking Law. For a supposedly brilliant doctor, he was really fucking stupid.

* * *

"Aren't they supposed to be here by now?" Shachi whined.

The heat was unbearable, and the Heart Pirates had been docked at a small, uninhabited island for several hours now. Ikkaku checked the time. Law had not given Bepo an expected time of arrival, but they were jittery staying in one place for too long. With the Polar Tang stationary for several hours, who knew how much ground any close pursuers had gained on them.

"How long do you think we should wait, Penguin?" she asked the first mate.

Penguin glanced at his pocket watch. "Let's say one more hour, then we submerge."

"Aye-aye."

Penguin looked almost rueful at the deference, but when Law was absent, it was only natural that someone filled the vacuum of leadership. Hierarchy was something Law believed strongly in, likely as a result of his medical training and his time with the Donquixote crew as well.

A wind blew fiercely and Bepo groaned.

"What's the point of hot wind?! It's already a billion degrees outside! Surfacing here is worse than just staying submerged…"

"For real," panted Shachi as he fanned himself.

"Stop whining," said Ikkaku sharply. "None of us are comfortable." The wind blew more insistently, showering the crew in sand. "Man, what the fuck!"

"Captain!" said Penguin excitedly. "Spade!"

Ikkaku peered through the sand. "Finally! We've been— _what the fuck_ , Spade?!"

Spade held Law from behind, but nothing about her embrace was kind. She dug the head of a glistening gun into Law's right temple, and while the Heart Captain looked calm, Ikkaku saw a heavy silver cuff on his wrist and knew that it was Kairouseki. Ikkaku's heart dropped to her stomach.

Immediately, the Heart Pirates had their weapons drawn. Bepo hunched forward, fangs bared in a snarl.

"Put those away," said Law.

"What's going on, Captain?" demanded Penguin.

"Not now. Bepo, Uni, bring Burgess here."

"What?"

Law looked annoyed. "Does now look like a good time to develop hearing loss?"

The two retreated immediately into the yellow submarine while the remaining Heart Pirates surrounded Spade and their captain slowly.

Ikkaku did not understand. Spade and Law had been more than cordial when they'd left for the Whitebeards. If Spade were truly Law's enemy, why bring Law back unharmed? Though that status remained to be seen; Ikkaku did not doubt that the bullets in Spade's gun were imbued with Kairouseki, too.

They waited in tense quiet until the chained and bloodied Burgess was brought back out of the submarine with some difficulty, given his stature. At the sight of Spade, Burgess roared.

"Bitch! Ya ran off to those Whitebeard cowards—Cap'n Teach is gonna find me and kill all of 'em, an' I'm gonna tear ya apart, limb from limb!"

There was the unmistakable cock of a gun.

"Captain!" shouted Penguin, leaping forward.

He was blasted away with an instantaneously formed tornado. Ikkaku froze—her captain was going to die right in front of her and there was no way to intervene—

Spade aimed the gun at Burgess and pulled the trigger. Three shots fired and Burgess crumbled onto the beach, blood pooling into the sand from the bullets in his head.

Spade pushed Law away from her. The captain staggered several steps before righting himself several feet away. He turned to face her, expression serene and collected. Spade pointed the gun at his face.

"Spade, don't you fuckin' dare," growled Ikkaku.

"Make a move and we'll kill ya," Shachi said, own gun loaded and pointed toward her.

"Weapons down," ordered Law.

"Captain," Ikkaku said indignantly. Law could not even form a Room to defend himself—why did he behave as if he weren't staring down the barrel of a gun?

"Down, now," said Law lethally.

Slowly, they obeyed, exchanging nervous glances all the while. Spade virtually ignored them, her profile unyielding and her eyes brimming with disgust.

"Go ahead," said Law to her.

Spade's eyes flickered and she cocked her gun. _You don't think I will_ , read her expression.

Spade pulled the trigger.

The bullet whizzed right by Law's ear and lodged into the docked submarine behind him; metal met metal in a loud clang. Law looked almost pained for a split second before his mask of neutrality returned.

Law merely closed his eyes in acknowledgment. "Safe travels, Miss Spade."

Ikkaku looked back where Spade was, only to find empty air.

* * *

Aokiji was so very bored of walking across the ocean, but this entire experience was made all the worse by the fact that of all people to have as a travel companion, Doflamingo was his. The ex-Shichibukai was many things, but above all, he was _annoying_. He flew through the air rapidly while Aokiji walked, always made snide remarks about how an ex-Admiral had fallen so low to be a Yonkou's lapdog, and complained constantly about the "brat Trafalgar Law" who had torn his empire apart. For a man who loved to discuss Aokiji's fall from glory, Donquixote Doflamingo was eternally fixated on his own.

Though Kuzan never admitted it to his travel companion, his role as Blackbeard's lackey was indeed exasperating. Kuzan had been following Burgess's slowly burning Vivre card for days now, all the way back to the entrance of the New World. Doflamingo's limited access to the Underworld Intel network had revealed that Skye Spade had killed Burgess, which was very curious because Burgess's card indicated very much otherwise. Aokiji had the slightest feeling he was walking into a mess that Spade had created without telling him, but he had not had the chance to debrief with her since he'd joined the Blackbeards. He could only hope that if he crossed paths with Spade, Doflamingo would be nowhere nearby.

Nearing the third week since Burgess's disappearance, the Titanic Ten's card dissolved completely.

"Shit," said Doflamingo. "They killed him. Thought he'd escaped."

"From whom, exactly?" Aokiji asked, peering at the ashes in his hand.

"Skye Spade. Whitebeards. Maybe Law, too."

"Hm. Trafalgar Law's strong enough to beat a Titanic Ten?"

"Probably Burgess," sneered Doflamingo. "Law's a weakling compared to me but he's a brat with a brain. Burgess thought with his dick and fought with two left feet."

"True," said Aokiji.

"Well, there goes that," said Doflamingo. "No Burgess, no Law, no Indigo Rings, no Whitebeards. Blackbeard's gonna be fucking pissed."

Doflamingo said all of this casually, but Aokiji could tell the Heavenly Yaksha was nervous. Blackbeard's protection from Kaidou only extended to Doflamingo's ability to recreate a similar factory to the SMILE production that he'd established in Dressrosa. Unfortunately, without Law and any Indigo Rings, there was hardly anything for a factory to actually produce. Ironically, it seemed that Doflamingo's own survival was contingent on the survival of his nemesis; Blackbeard had made it clear he had no particular need for Doflamingo, while Kaidou had plenty that Blackbeard was interested in.

It explained why Doflamingo was so invested in this rescue mission, which Blackbeard had assigned to two fairly new and still-untrustworthy members of his team. Both Doflamingo and Aokiji were far removed from their days of grunt work—Aokiji really doubted Doflamingo had ever had a day of hard labor in his life—but full acceptance into Blackbeard's higher ranks would require proof of commitment. Aokiji had been hoping to, if not find Burgess, at least find Trafalgar Law and the Indigo Rings. He wanted to avoid conflict with Spade and the Whitebeards as much as he could; there would be little he could do to act if Doflamingo were around.

"The card was last pointing east," noted Aokiji, "and rather insistently for the last several hours. Perhaps Burgess found his way to shore and then died. We should see if there's a body. Perhaps it will tell us more."

The former king of Dressrosa nodded and flew back into the sky on his strings. Aokiji trekked along, wishing that he could be alone long enough to call Spade. Their collaboration was kept under such tight wraps that besides he and Spade, only Marco knew of it. Spade did not trust the other Whitebeards enough to compromise her most crucial contact. There would be a time and place when his affiliation with his old student would be revealed; Aokiji only hoped that whatever this information was exchanged for would be well worth it.

Kuzan stopped walking abruptly, sensing a disturbance beneath his feet. It was not the normal vibrations of a sea king or some other deep-sea beast. Something about the constant whir of the ripples hit the ice resembled a machine, possibly a submarine.

Aokiji extended his Devil's Fruit abilities south, quickly freezing the water beneath him in a direction chasing the ripples. This was a familiar memory, reminiscent of years ago when he'd pursued Trafalgar Law's bright yellow submarine as it dove away from Marineford. Aokiji had not tried terribly hard to capture them then, given that the war was over and he'd felt bad for the Strawhat boy, but circumstances were different now. It was nothing personal against Law, but Aokiji needed the Surgeon of Death to uphold the rest of Blackbeard's deal. His ghosting of any contact for the last month had been ill received.

"Why'd you stop?" demanded Doflamingo, landing beside Kuzan.

"I might've found something," Kuzan murmured as he accelerated his ice, trying to catch the fickle sub. It was definitely a sub, and its navigators certainly knew they were being pursued. Their speed had increased, but Aokiji was freezing the entire environment and the fuel the sub burned to overcome the rapidly dropping temperature would soon be expended.

True enough, his ice overcame its target and surrounded it completely, forcing it still. With kind and deliberate slowness, recognizing the ramifications of rising through the ocean depths too quickly, Aokiji brought his prey up. The ocean floor rippled, then burst, revealing a tightly frozen yellow submarine that read DEATH on its side.

Aokiji frowned. How gauche.

A bright blue orb surrounded the submarine and with two quick slashes, the ice surrounding it crumbled and the sub fell into the water, bobbing at its surface.

"It's Law," said Doflamingo, his excitement palpable.

"I assumed," said Aokiji.

The two of them walked over and jumped onto the deck of the Polar Tang. In a show of uncustomary politeness, both waited several minutes until as door to the submarine opened, and the Surgeon of Death himself walked out, long sword drawn, alone. He was shorter than both Aokiji and Doflamingo by at least two heads, but rarely did Aokiji meet humans who exceeded his height. Doflamingo was part-demon and part-flamingo, so he did not meet that criteria.

"Surprise, Law," Doflamingo said gleefully.

Law, impressively, did not look surprised, but he noticeably narrowed his eyes at the sight of them.

"What the fuck is this," he said coldly. "How are you here? And with a Marine Admiral at that?"

"Ex," corrected Aokiji smoothly.

"I'm here to pay my respects, brat," said Doflamingo. "All that Dressrosa shit seems to have gone to your head, hasn't it? It'll be my pleasure to teach you your place."

"We're here on behalf of Blackbeard for the Indigo Rings," said Aokiji.

"I told Burgess I needed three months."

"Burgess has disappeared, which I'm sure you know of, given that you seem to be unharmed and have been dodging calls," replied Aokiji. "Blackbeard has asked us to collect his debts."

Law smirked at Doflamingo. "You must love that, being ordered around by a fool like Blackbeard. From king to lowly debt collector now, what a fall from grace."

"Be careful, Law," Doflamingo sneered. "You're not in the position to be loose with that tongue of yours."

Aokiji privately agreed. Even if he weren't present, he was unsure if Law could handle Doflamingo on his own. From what he knew about the Dressrosa incident, Strawhat Luffy had played a major role in taking down Doflamingo.

The blue orb surrounding the submarine seemed to glow brighter. Aokiji looked at it curiously. He had never seen Law's abilities in action, though from the rumors, it was a very curious ability indeed.

"I had nothing to do with Burgess," said Law silkily. "Rumors have it that Skye Spade handled that on her own, and she is hardly our friend."

"Then why did Burgess's Vivre card lead us to you?" asked Aokiji.

"No idea," answered Law. "If you want the Indigo Rings, I have them onboard. You can take them and leave."

"Oh, we'll take them," said Doflamingo, "but you'll be coming with us."

"Why? I took Blackbeard's deal as an act of good faith. I have made progress on what he asked for."

"Then it's time for your reward, isn't it?" purred the Heavenly Yaksha. "Me, right?"

Law suddenly froze, and it wasn't until Doflamingo approached him that Aokiji realized Doflamingo had seized Law in his threads. The hatred in Law's eyes was unmistakable, but he remained impassive as Doflamingo curled his long fingers around Law's throat.

"One month in Impel Down is a month too much," Doflamingo whispered. "Putting me, a king, a _god_ , in shackles…must have been your dream, mm? But you cannot keep a god locked up. What about _my_ dreams? I had the world in my hands, and you destroyed all of that, a decade's worth of work and you crushed it. That month in Impel Down, my dream became a measly little thing, Law: to find you and crush you like the little shit you are." Doflamingo let go of him and stepped back, grin wide. "We are going to have so much fun, little one."

The sphere surrounding them flickered and a puff of pink feathers appeared around Law. He dusted them off, freed of his restraints.

"Oh my. How'd you do that?" marveled Aokiji, noticing a now naked spot on Doflamingo's flamboyant cloak.

"He has the ability to exchange the positions of anything within a Room," explained Doflamingo, pointing to the blue light capturing the submarine. "He's always been a slippery little bastard."

"And you're here to do whatever this asshole does?" said Law to Aokiji.

"I am here to collect some things," he said lightly. "That includes you. Now, if you'll just come peacefully with us, we can make this entire exchange…not an ordeal. I don't feel like putting in the effort, really."

"Don't worry, I'll make up for it," said Doflamingo. "I assume your little crewmen are on board with you. We'll be sure to bring us with them. This will be so much _fun_."

"Not a chance," snapped Law.

He swung his nodachi down, the Haki imbued in it causing the cut to billow outward remarkably. Both Aokiji and Doflamingo dodged lazily, but Doflamingo dove in to continue the fight. Aokiji remained where he was, bored and unwilling to participate, when he caught sight of a door opening on the side of the submarine. An almost miniature vessel, gray steel and more sedate than its mothership, that could hold a maximum of fifteen people in cramped quarters, slipped through silently while Doflamingo and Law fought.

He was probably supposed to stop them.

But Aokiji really did not like Doflamingo and already felt slightly bad for putting Law in this predicament. The ex-Admiral had not had enough interaction with the Surgeon of Death to properly make a judgment, but he did not forget that Law had been the one to discover and destroy Punk Hazard, and the Dressrosa incident was one Aokiji approved of. Law seemed to fight for a moral code that was more akin to Aokiji than Doflamingo; the captain's clear sacrifice for his crewmembers only reinforced this observation.

It was for this reason that Aokiji allowed the vessel to slip away and disappear. There was no helping Law out of his situation, especially since Aokiji had a mission to complete on his own. Sacrifices needed to be made, and unfortunately, Law had made his.

* * *

Spade spent the next few days alone, her Den-Den Mushi sleeping and silenced. She did not tune into the Underworld, did not check her messages, and did not contact anyone. Marco would certainly be worried, but the Whitebeards would be sailing out soon for Wano. He had other things to preoccupy his mind.

An icy vine had wound its way around Spade's insides and frozen her solid. She moved through her days unfeelingly, in isolation, having flown back to the unnamed island near the Calm Belt where she was known only as Ava, the bartender. Ava drank liberally, spoke to no one, and slept.

She would need only these few days to get over the mistake that had been Trafalgar Law, and she'd be back to normal. It was foolish to isolate herself at such a critical time, but Spade could not bear the thought of tuning into the Underworld and hearing that Skye Spade was Hurricane. Knowing that Law would be the reason she lost Hurricane was rubbing salt on an exposed, gaping wound.

That wound still wept openly, no matter how Spade tried it blot it away. The mere thought of Law filled her with a red rage that simmered and would surely explode if she were around others. She knew the intensity of her anger was only proportional to the level of her affection. Spade was so furious that she was fully aware of how her emotions were affecting her judgment. Giving Law back to his crewmembers meant letting him slip out of her fingers, out of her sight where she could no longer monitor his actions, but she couldn't help it. She needed to send him away, far away, and get away from the Whitebeard base too because she did not need any lectures on how she was letting her feelings get to her head, break out of the control she had become so accomplished at.

Feelings were such stupid things.

On the fourth day of her wallowing, Spade resolved to return to normalcy. She woke up early, head pounding from a hangover, but forced herself to get up and make coffee. Her little townhome was quiet and quaint; with the feminine décor and floral arrangements lining the windows, any casual passerby would have never guessed that it belonged to a pirate.

As the kettle built up to a whistle, Spade confronted the emotions that constantly threatened to overtake her control. She knew that Marco was right—perhaps she was overreacting. Perhaps Law's actions did not parallel the intense loathing that she felt for him now. But Spade had come so close to letting Law in that the timing of his betrayal made every cell in her body ache.

Never mind that Law had said he loved her, too. That only made things worse because now, she didn't believe him.

The kettle whistled, and as Spade moved to take it off the stove when something in her blouse started screaming.

Spade jolted up and nearly dropped the kettle. Thankfully avoiding scalding herself, she set the kettle down and reached down into her bra to withdraw a shrieking red SOS Den-Den Mushi. She paled, feeling nauseous, and picked up immediately, unsure of whom to expect.

"Hello?" she said.

"Spade," said Marco's voice, relieved. "I've been trying to call you since yesterday."

"Are you okay?" she asked. "Is it Blackbeard, I'm coming back—"

"No, it's Law. Doflamingo got him."

Spade's blood ran cold, but she stared at the Mushi, incredulous for a different reason entirely as she buried her subconscious dread. "You used an SOS Mushi for _that_?!"

"How is our captain not worth that?!" a familiar voice demanded.

"Is that Ikkaku?" said Spade, bewildered.

"Yeah, and I'm gonna fuckin' kill you when I see you. You threaten our captain like that and hours later, Do-fucking-flamingo shows up!?"

"How are you with Marco—where the fuck are you guys?"

"At base," said Marco tersely. "You haven't been pickin' up. They found their way here last night, something about their navigator not needing a Log Pose to find a Logless Island. Apparently, Doflamingo and Aokiji ambushed their sub. They were searching for Burgess."

SOS Mushi were hideously expensive but guaranteed several functions: immediate correspondence of the user's location to the partner Mushi and five minutes of untappable conversation. After the five minutes expired, the snail would die. Each minute of the call was valued at one million beli.

Spade had four minutes remaining.

"Spade?" Marco was brisk and business-like. "We need to do something. We're responsible; we sent them out alone."

"This happened right after I killed Burgess, which means Doflamingo and Aokiji were right on their heels. If we'd followed the original plan, Namur would've been killed or they would've found our base."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" shouted Ikkaku. "That's your priority right now?"

"Marco's safety is _always_ my priority," she said tersely. "I'd trade Law for Marco in a heartbeat. Besides, this is Law's fault for not telling the fucking truth to begin with."

"We were the ones who suggested that he change Burgess's heart," said Penguin, though he sounded more pleading. "It wasn't just Captain's idea; we said that we'd only let him go with you alone if he at least had a backup plan."

"And it was a mistake!" said Ikkaku. "It was a stupid mistake, but don't you dare act like that he's no longer worth your fuckin' time now that he's given you what you want—"

"Law hasn't given me jack shit," said Spade heatedly.

"He gave us all of Blackbeard's Indigo Rings," said Marco calmly. "His crew brought it with him. He sent a letter asking us to protect his crew for the favor I owe him and that he'd find a way out of his situation on his own."

"That sounds fine to me," she said dismissively.

"It's not fine!" Penguin yelled, now snapping. "Captain is more valuable than all of us combined, and now _Doflamingo_ has him—we're not abandoning him!"

"Then you should've just all stayed and fought," she said acidly. "I'm sure you could've take down Doflamingo together."

"He had an ex-Marine Supreme Admiral with him!" Penguin roared. "Captain knew it was a lost fight from the moment Aokiji's ice caught up to us. We didn't even know about Doflamingo until afterward."

"Then maybe Law should've thought about all of this shit before he'd decided to lie to me!" she shouted back. "I gave Law the information he needed and he still chose to switch Burgess's heart even though he knew this was a risk—if Law's word actually meant something, maybe I'd care. But this is something he should've seen coming. Whatever Doflamingo does to him, he deserves for letting himself get so carried away."

Spade was shaking so violently that her last words almost came out choked. There was a silence after her heated ill will, wasting precious seconds.

"Spade," said Bepo, his voice soft but firm, "you don't mean that. Our captain made a mistake but he does not deserve whatever Doflamingo will put him through. Please forgive him. It's what we do."

The navigator made it sound so easy, but despite all her rage, Spade knew that her animosity was poorly timed and misplaced. She could not afford to waste the rest of the Mushi's lifespan.

"Did everyone else escape?" she asked thinly.

"Most of us. Uni, Shachi, and Jean Bart stayed behind." Ikkaku still sounded angry, but Spade caught an undeniable fear in her voice. "They couldn't fit in our escape sub, but they didn't really try either. Captain wanted all of us out, but we couldn't all abandon him."

"You should've," said Spade.

"You—"

"They're with Doflamingo," she snapped. "You think having people you care about with you is a good thing when you're his prisoner?!"

"Spade, we need a plan," said Marco.

Spade gritted her teeth and looked at the clock. Two minutes left.

"Marco, this is your call. I'll save him if you tell me to. But if we do, we're going to lose a lot in the exchange."

"Do what you need to do. Use whatever cards you deem necessary."

"…Is he worth it?" she said, voice brittle.

She heard Ikkaku hiss and Bepo nearly roar, but Marco understood.

"Yeah, he is. Blackbeard wanted him for a reason, Spade. If Law gives Blackbeard his research, Blackbeard's army is gonna be unstoppable. Plus, he knows too much about us. You said he was your mistake. Feelings aside, we need to get him out."

She took a deep breath, hating herself and Marco and most of all, Law. "All right. I'll handle this. You all stay put until I come up with a plan."

"Fuck no, Spade," said Penguin seriously.

"I do not need to give Doflamingo any more hostages," she said coolly. "You guys have done enough. Stick with the Whitebeards. I'll save Law, you have my word. But if you do a single stupid thing or disobey Marco's orders, I'll save him and then kill him myself."

"Spade," said the Phoenix warningly.

"We won't betray the Whitebeards," Penguin said. "We're not that stupid. But this is our captain we're talking about. We're not gonna sit idly by."

"That's exactly what you're going to do unless I tell you otherwise. I don't need any unknown variables involved if I'm going to get Law out of there alive. I'll be in touch if I need backup."

In times like this, she was grateful for the trust Marco had in her.

"Be safe, Spade," was all the Phoenix said. "We can't lose you too."

The Mushi let out a squeal before Spade could reply, indicating the end of its life span. Spade watched the red snail close its eyes and shrivel up in front of her, as if it had been doused in salt. She'd just lost her source of emergency contact with Marco. Five million beli gone for a five-minute conversation about a man whom the mere thought of sent her pulse throbbing.

It was a pittance compared to the price she'd have to pay to save Law.

* * *

Law opened his eyes blearily, unsurprised to find himself in a dark, dank cell that had become rather familiar over the last several days. A Kairouseki collar rested on his neck, its weight strangling him slowly. He was shackled to the floors of a bunker in the lowest levels of a ship, where he could feel the rise and fall of each wave acutely. He'd never been one to get seasick, but the constant sway was the cherry on top of a sundae full of nausea-inducing ingredients.

His entire body screamed with the slightest movement. Doflamingo had kept Law busy since his capture—or perhaps it was the other way around. His ex-captain had spent much of his time torturing Law in ways that honestly were less creative than what he'd expected of him, though it did not make being brutally fucked while being forced in place by Doflamingo's threads any more bearable. Every thrust had caused the strings to sink deep into tissue, only to be viciously ripped out with reciprocal movement. Law learned quickly to relax as best as he could and not resist, but it did not change the fact that by the end of the night, his wrists and ankles were nearly shredded through tendons and Doflamingo's sheets were drenched in blood. He was very concerned that he may be limbless by the end of this ordeal, though that was assuming any of them could escape.

Law had no idea where his crewmates were. He'd understood why Jean Bart had stayed behind—the escape sub had been built before the newest member of the Heart Pirates had joined and therefore did not accommodate his size—but Uni and Shachi remaining behind had been both a touching yet unpleasant surprise. He had not wanted to hand Doflamingo easy targets, but the Heavenly Yaksha had been so preoccupied by Law himself that Law could only assume his crewmembers were untouched. It didn't matter what else Doflamingo had in store; he'd shoulder this burden himself willingly, especially when it had been his mistake that had resulted in their situation.

Law could not believe himself. The hold that Doflamingo had over him was clearly stronger than even Law had understood about himself. He had always been so careful, but for a brief but catastrophic moment, Law had the taste of pure success in attaining everything he'd wanted in life and more. It had blinded him; the drunken state of love and power had inhibited his defenses and had drawn him to goals out of his reach. Perhaps this was what Spade had meant in that conversation that felt like years ago: _power is an illusion, ripped away and restored at a moment's notice. No matter how strong you are, sometimes just a little luck and divine fucking-you-over are enough to take everything away from you_.

Nothing like literal _divine fucking-you-over_ to drive a point home, thought Law in a brief moment of dry wit, though there was nothing humorous about his situation. He knew what Doflamingo's plan was. If Law dwelled on his torture, if he dwelled on the reality of the rape, he'd crumble. Doflamingo wanted to exert power over him in every shape and form—Law was physically shackled and beaten, but he would not let his former captain take his mind.

So Law did what he did best: he dissociated, suppressed his emotions, buried them deep inside of him so that he did not process what he had gone through. He thought through his pain, because if mind over body was a truth, then Law intended to see it through, no matter how much he wanted to scream in agony otherwise.

The door to his cell swung open with an eerie creak, and Law lifted his head up tiredly, dreading whatever ideas Doflamingo had for him next.

Much to his surprise, Aokiji walked in and tossed Uni at his feet.

"Uni," said Law, stunned.

"Captain," Uni said gravely, his beady eyes darting to Law's wounds. "Captain, I'm so sorry."

"Your crewman mentioned he was a doctor too. You look like you need some patching up." Aokiji threw a small bag to Uni, who unzipped it to reveal a basic first aid kit.

Law glanced at Aokiji suspiciously as Uni handled Law's fettered limbs with delicacy. Uni thankfully looked unharmed, and the materials he had, though rudimentary, would help with blood loss and splinting. Law truthfully required much more serious medical attention, but Uni was smart and could make do with limited supplies.

The ex-Admiral stayed quiet while Uni worked carefully and quickly. The Heart Pirate did not attempt to converse with his captain, giving Law the impression that Aokiji had given him instructions to stay mum. Uni bandaged one wrist carefully, tying the ends of the cloth neatly before moving onto the other. Law studied his crewmember carefully.

"How are the others?" asked Law quietly.

Uni looked shiftily at his captor, who was taking a nap as he sat in the corner of the cell, long limbs crossed lazily. If Uni was not supposed to respond to this inquiry, Aokiji made no movement to stop him.

"Safe," replied Uni. "Unharmed."

Relief filled Law. "Good."

Uni looked at him, pained. "But you—"

"Not important," Law interrupted. "Do not cause any trouble. Do not give them any information."

 _About the Whitebeards_ , was the unspoken addendum to the order. Uni nodded, and Law honestly should not have been concerned. Uni had always been a man of few words, but Law needed to make sure that Shachi remained the same way. He did not doubt that Shachi would easily hand over information if it meant saving his captain, but negotiations of any kind with Doflamingo were bound to end in loss. Doflamingo begrudgingly respected a challenge more than surrender.

Aokiji, on the other hand, was harder to understand. Regardless that Aokiji had attempted to execute her, Spade seemed to still hold her mentor in high regard. Law knew that Aokiji had been a looser enforcer of the Marines' Absolute Justice, but his presence among Blackbeard's ranks seemed strange and out of character. Law did not know Aokiji's motives or his capabilities, which made him all the more wary of his collaboration with Doflamingo.

As Uni finished splinting Law's ankle and patching up any other significant lacerations, Aokiji woke up from his nap and looked pleased with the wound care. With a careless gesture to Uni, he led Law's crewmember out of the cell and out of sight without another word. Several minutes passed before Aokiji returned to the cell, now alone.

"What do you want?" Law demanded.

"Many things, Trafalgar Law," said Aokiji vaguely, his giant profile requiring him to duck significantly to prevent crashing into the ceiling. He resumed sitting against the grates of the cell, directly across from Law.

He was an impressive man, nearly as tall as Doflamingo, with dark skin and bushy hair. Kuzan held the same the casual grace as Marco, both men who rarely found an enemy whom he could consider his equal. Upon close inspection, Law spotted hypertrophied scars and keloids peeking over the edge of Aokiji's collar, likely souvenirs form his death-match with Akainu.

"Patching me up so I don't break too early?" guessed Law. "I suppose you'll want your fun too."

"Not for me. Doflamingo apparently likes to break things," shrugged Aokiji. "It was expected, but it still leaves a sour taste in my mouth."

"How kind to clean your conscience then," said Law bitterly. "Never thought a Marine would allow the useless rape and torture of a helpless prisoner."

Aokiji's eyes flickered, as if he had not expected Law to be so blatant.

"I am not a Marine, and you are the least helpless prisoner I've met," said Aokiji. "Surely you expected this when you sacrificed yourself for your crew and the entire shipment of Indigo Rings."

"Expecting it doesn't make it any more pleasant," spat Law.

Kuzan blinked, unoffended. "No, it does not. I apologize. Doflamingo's actions were gravely unjust. I had to leave you to him to deliver a message, but now that I've returned, he will not touch you again."

Law's eyes flickered. "What?"

"Don't get the wrong idea," Kuzan said lazily, sitting down across from Law. "You are a prisoner, and Blackbeard is very furious with you. There may be a time where torture is necessary so that you may deliver on your previous promises. I will not intervene when that time comes. But for now, useless rape and torture are, as you say, useless, especially if you can provide me the information I want without such persuasion. Where did you send your crew with the Indigo Rings?"

"To hell and back," spat Law.

Aokiji looked amused. "Truly, Law, would you rather cooperate with me or with Doflamingo?"

"I'd rather not cooperate."

The amusement faded into severity. "I don't want to play games. Did you send the Rings to Skye Spade?"

Law forced his expression to remain neutral. He knew Aokiji was gauging for a reaction, and the slightest twitch in his eyebrow would reveal information that Law was honestly unsure of. If, on the off chance, his team had found the Whitebeard's Logless Base, who was to say that Spade would heed his request? If Marco found the crew, Law was rather certain that the Phoenix would shelter his team.

Spade, on the other hand, was more unpredictable.

Law's predicament was a complete shitshow. To survive it, he'd amputated of the parts of his mind that processed his interactions with Doflamingo and also his thoughts about Spade. Law could not afford to dwell on her. Doing so would only serve to remind him that he'd had everything he'd wanted for only a few sweet hours; now, Spade likely preferred him dead. She would have foreseen his current situation as a possibility and would therefore attribute his dilemma to be his own doing. Law took ownership of his mistakes, but it did not make the taste of his misfortune any less vile.

"Why would I?" said Law. "We are far from friends."

"Really?" Aokiji said loftily. "It seems strange for you not to be in connection when Burgess's Vivre card led me to you, even though I'd heard that Skye Spade killed Burgess over a week ago. Odd for information from Hurricane to be incorrect, especially when earlier Hurricane reported that Skye Spade was actually with the Strawhats."

The Pheasant looked at him calmly, but Law felt oddly uneasy under his scrutiny. Aokiji was fishing for information, but Law refused to reveal any. Still, Aokiji seemed to know more than he let on. If neither were willing to openly converse, then subtle hints would be the moves played to garner reactions that would unveil much more.

"We are not friends," Law repeated, though this time, acid bubbled in his throat with the words because he knew they were true. "At least, I am certain she does not see us that way."

Aokiji's eyes flickered. "So you've been in contact."

Law remained silent.

"Do not test me, Law. Contrary to how I look, I am skilled in torture as well," said Aokiji tranquilly.

"I assume Miss Spade learned from the best," returned Law.

Something flashed through Aokiji's eyes—an understanding, _something_ —but it disappeared so swiftly that Law couldn't be certain.

"You are not friends," said Aokiji slowly.

"No."

"I see. Odd," the ex-Admiral remarked.

"Odd?"

"I do not know you, so I am making judgments," he said. "I merely assumed you two would've gotten along rather well."

"You speak of her fondly," commented Law, a growing suspicion of Aokiji's allegiance budding in the back of his mind.

"I did always like her," Aokiji said, "even when I was about to kill her."

Kuzan stood up gingerly and dusted the dirt off his pants.

"I have what I need from you, it seems. Still, I hope for your sake your information is false."

"I have not revealed anything," Law said coolly.

"Actually, you revealed much. For your sake, I hope you and Skye Spade are friends. I do not foresee a way out of your predicament otherwise."

Aokiji let the cell door shut behind him, not even bothering to lock it. Law let out a breath he was not even aware he was holding.

Aokiji had revealed perhaps just as much as Law had. Neither of them were certain, and so neither of them could make a move to advance. But Law was convinced that Aokiji was somehow on Spade's side, for there was no other way to interpret his parting words. The problem was that even if Law's suspicions of Aokiji were true, the contingency for Aokiji's potential aid was shaky. Law could not truthfully say that he and Spade were friends. That was a road that had been travelled down and ruptured.

He could not count on Spade to help, and truthfully, he did not believe he deserved it.


	16. Lines and Stents

_tw: mentions of rape/sexual assault, please proceed accordingly._

 **Chapter 16** : **Lines and Stents**

Marco woke up abruptly at the sensation of a sudden weight on his chest. His eyes snapped open, but he relaxed the moment he recognized Spade, who was promptly straddling him with a familiar and purposeful look in her eyes. He would've been scared shitless had Spade not done this occasionally before, when she would return to base unannounced and go straight to his quarters. It was not an unpleasant way to wake up, and Marco did not resist. He did not ask about where Spade and Law stood, or if this was a bad idea—they were pointless questions in the larger scale of things.

He flipped Spade under him and undressed her swiftly. Spade reached up and kissed him fiercely, one hand buried in his hair as the other slid down and pulled his still sleepy cock out of his boxers. It did not take long for Spade to wake him up fully, and it took even less time for Marco to prepare her. Their bodies fit easily, and the familiarity of having Spade in his arms let Marco shut his brain off and follow his instincts. The fuck was fast and urgent and left Marco wanting more, but he was certain Spade had flown nonstop since receiving his SOS call and was exhausted. He kissed her gently as they fell back from their high. He rolled onto her side, pulling her tightly against him and was comforted by the sight of Spade's small smile and her eyes flitting shut.

They couldn't have been asleep for more than an hour before Spade woke him up by climbing out of bed.

"Hey."

She turned to face him, exasperated. "You were literally just snoring. Do you even fall asleep?"

"You know I've always been a light sleeper," he said, rolling onto his side as he watched her get dressed. "Stay in bed, Spade."

"No, it's fine. Go back to sleep," she said. "I'm just going to the—"

"Roof," he finished for her. He reached out for her wrist and gave it a gentle tug. Spade sat back down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. "I bet you haven't slept well since you left. You're gonna collapse."

"I've been out of commission for a while," she explained. "I need to check in on the Underworld."

"Do it tomorrow," he said, firmly tugging her back so she fell down on the pillows. "Sleep now. Captain's orders."

Spade gave a tired chuckle but didn't fight him. She hugged him tightly and buried her face in his chest, where Marco felt her take in a deep breath and let it out just as slowly. He wrapped his arm around her waist, the weight of her profile reassuring and familiar. He had no problem with Spade choosing to sleep with Law, but her presence in his bed still felt right.

Clearly, Spade felt the same way.

"This is how I should've kept it," she murmured. "Just this, with you."

"Nah, it's fuckin' sad," said Marco. "Whatever you wanted with Trafalgar was real and you deserve more."

"No, it was stupid. I lost sight of what's really important. He was a mistake."

"I don't think so," said Marco. "He made a mistake. But I don't think he was the mistake."

"Why are you like this?" She scooted up on the pillows and rested her head on her outstretched arm. The barest irritation lined her expression. "He lied to you. He didn't trust you."

"I already told you," Marco shrugged. "I didn't think they were unreasonable decisions. I'm not personally offended by what he did. But his mistake was not trusting you. He shouldn't have hurt you."

"But?"

"But he's not a bad guy," conceded Marco. "Honestly, I kinda like him. I talked with his crewmates. They're worried as fuck and everything they say 'bout him shows that he's a pretty stand-up captain. He'll make a good ally, now that we've gotten all his secrets out in the open."

"You forgive too easily," Spade muttered.

"And you have too lil faith," he returned lightly. "You know yourself best, Spade. You wouldn't love someone evil."

"I make bad decisions all the time," she said. "I think I'm about to make a bad one to save Law."

Marco rested a hand on Spade's shoulder.

"You don't have to decide these things alone," he said seriously.

Spade shook her head. "I know, but it's not your problem yet. You don't sacrifice a queen to beat a rook. I need you to take out Blackbeard in the end. Let me see if I can handle Doflamingo."

"We have Aokiji."

"I'm even less inclined to move him." Spade ran a hand through her hair, thinking intently.

"You really sound like Law sometimes," grinned Marco. "Think it's all that Marine and doctor education—too fancy for a lowly uneducated pirate like me."

"Oh, shut up," she flared. "You always say shit like that as if you're stupid when you beat me in chess all the time."

"Only 'cause you're too slow to move your queen," he said lazily. "What's the point of havin' that kinda power when you never use it?"

Spade's gaze on Marco lingered. "You're not my queen, you know. You're my king. I lose you, and I lose everything."

He blinked. "But the king is useless in chess. I'm not useless."

Spade sighed. "I know. I guess it's a bad analogy. I'm just worried because Joker was a huge Underworld Broker, so he thinks differently." She rolled onto her back and glared up at the ceiling. "Fuck, I never really wanted to deal with Doflamingo. I know you can beat him in brute strength, but the power of a puppet master is in the play, not the puppets."

"Now _that's_ a good analogy," remarked Marco. "Fits with his Devil's Fruit perfectly."

"Maybe a bit too obviously," she said wryly.

"Can't help it that it fits his personality perfectly too."

She gave a small laugh. "Think he's always been like that? Or his Fruit made him like that?"

"Whaddya mean?"

Spade paused for replying. "Ace always loved talking about Fate, destiny, shit like that. I don't believe in it. But sometimes…sometimes Fruit abilities seem to fit the person just a little too well. And it just makes me wonder."

Marco understood. "If you're destined to gain your Fruit?"

"Or if it only seems like that because your Fruit made you…you." Spade sounded weary. "I guess I don't like either explanation. Implies I don't have control either way."

"Doflamingo's just one example."

"Luffy, too. The Gomu Gomu no Mi is such a ridiculous fruit but only he could use it as well as he does. Elastic, flexible, resilient. He's able to bounce back—literally—from any stress. And then there's Ace. Ace was fire, which matched his personality to the letter. Fierce, hot-headed, but pure and purifying." Her voice was soft. "He made everyone around him the best version of themselves. No other Devil's Fruit made sense with him."

"And Law?"

Spade snorted. "Please, the Ope Ope no Mi is worthless in a non-physician's hands, and it so happened to be eaten by a medical prodigy who was dying of a terminal, otherwise incurable illness? That's probably the most convincing argument for fate I've ever heard."

"You're wind," said Marco quietly. "Invisible but present. Flitting. You can't be tied down to any particular source."

Spade laughed weakly. "Yeah. At least with Ace, I had someone to complement. Now that he's gone, there's just a vacuum, which fits me pretty well too. I guess that sounds a bit lonely though."

A silence fell between them as Marco ran through the examples in his head, and he had to admit that Spade's theory made a certain degree of sense. His own ability fit his personality as snugly as skin—Marco had never been a destructive fighter, preferring to heal and unify rather than to sow chaos wherever he went. It was what had made Pops trust him as the First Division Commander and de facto first mate; Whitebeard had always found the pairing of his Devil's Fruit, the strongest offensive power in the world, with Marco's non-combative one to hold a strong dose of irony.

Perhaps this was the true curse of Devil's Fruits—not to lose the ability to swim, but to lose one's sense of self to the force of a mere fruit, power and identity becoming knotted and indistinguishable.

Marco could tell that the conversation upset Spade, for perhaps more reasons than simply lack of control or rebellion against Fate. He reached for her but instead of holding her against him, simply brushed the tattoo on her underarm. A phoenix that rose not from flames, but from ice.

 _For the men that I'd die for_ , Spade had said when she'd gotten the tattoo.

"It all paints a pretty picture," he murmured, "but Fruits rarely fall into our laps, y'know. Someone fought and died for Law to get his Fruit. He thought Law deserved to be cured, to be given a second chance at a shitty life. Same for you. Aokiji gave you yours because you couldn't walk, so he thought you could fly instead. They came from people who loved you and thought you deserved them. Don't matter if the Fruits fits or not."

Spade looked at him. "So?"

"So who the fuck cares 'bout Fate," said Marco quietly, "when the only thing that matters is you that fight for the people you love."

Spade let the words settle in before she reached in and kissed him. Marco returned the action, glad to have provided some words of wisdom that seemed to break Spade out of a cycle of overthinking that she always drowned herself in.

"Sleep, Marco," she said, her smile gentle when they broke apart. "I'll be moving my queen soon."

* * *

Donquixote Doflamingo had never been a man who dealt well with weakness of any sort. He was not simply a man, but a god with the blood of Celestial Dragons running through his veins, and assuming a deferential role felt absolutely foreign to him. Hierarchy was a natural process in this world, evident in the animal kingdom, and humans were no different. Among mankind, Doflamingo belonged at the top. His immense stature was an easy testament to how he had been born into power. No matter how his worthless father had attempted to escape the pecking order, Doflamingo had reclaimed his role as a king not only because he had fought for it, but because he was destined for it. It did not matter how hard common people worked; traversing the social ladder was impossible past a certain point simply because pedigree meant more than circumstance.

Which wasn't to say that Doflamingo thought absolutely everyone around him was worthless. He was perfectly willing to admit that some individuals were special in their own regard. The Donquixote Family he had built included those who were loyal and meaningful to him; Vergo, especially, had always held a special place in Doflamingo's carefully guarded heart, and when Doflamingo was honest with himself, Law had occupied a similar place, too.

Law had come into Doflamingo's company of his own volition at the tender age of ten, when age was the only remotely tender thing about him. Law was a child who had seen his world crumble around him, figuratively and literally, and Doflamingo felt an incredible kinship with the child who understood the unlimited ugliness of the universe. The Heavenly Yaksha knew from the start that Law was different from the other children in his family; Law was a mental and physical genius, but most importantly, he was ruthless. He fought with the wild abandon of someone who cared for nothing and therefore expected no one to care for him in return. He was an excellent leader because his cold, clinical decision-making made each choice purely objective, and he held no ambition beyond just watching the world burn. By Doflamingo's early judgment, Law would make the perfect right-hand man because he never sought for more power than what he was bestowed.

In retrospect, what a foolish mistake that had been. Blinded by this kinship, Doflamingo failed to see how their similarities would be his undoing. Law contained a natural charisma that made others believe in him, and Rosinate had deemed Law worthy of saving while he threw his own blood brother to the Marine dogs. This mistake had simmered over the years and finally, now over a decade later, had bubbled into fruition. Law was no longer a passive follower. The little monster reared his head, demanded more from the world, and had very nearly obtained it.

But only nearly.

Law's Ope Ope no Mi allowed him to disrupt order into chaos, but what Law failed to understand was that certain laws of Nature, no matter how they were disturbed, always snapped back in place. Doflamingo felt this acutely now as he looked at Law's bloodied body in front of him, chained and helpless while the Heavenly Yaksha remained free. A smile crept to the former king's lips as he knelt so that he and Law were eye-level.

"How are we feeling today?" he purred.

"Fantastic," Law returned, voice scratchy in the quality of one who'd been thoroughly throat-fucked.

"You sound hoarse. You must be thirsty. I'm surprised though, you were so good at swallowing."

The barest hatred flashed through Law's eyes, but disappeared as quickly as it came. The Surgeon of Death merely smirked.

"It must bother you to be so unsatisfactory."

Doflamingo's lips curled. A taut string curled around Law's neck, vibrating so finely in place that fresh beads of red appeared where the thread broke skin.

"Careful, Law."

Law was fearless. "Death is a poor threat, Doflamingo. If you could kill me, you would've done so already. You need me alive for something."

"I _want_ you alive," he grinned, "because death is too simple a punishment for you. I do admit that I'm impressed with your spirit." He brought a hand up to Law's bare chest, brushing over the dark skin. He was pleased to find that Law's fluttering heart betrayed his control. "You look nowhere as broken as I would've expected. Perhaps I was too delicate with you."

Law scoffed. "Delicate is a term that has never been used to describe you."

"Not me, but perhaps you," murmured Doflamingo, his long fingers brushing one laceration was beginning to scab over. "You were always such a sickly child. How nice to see that you've grown beautifully."

Law truly was beautiful. His body was marvelously decorated in ink but held few scars, proof to his cleverness in battle. Doflamingo had always preferred women, and would have never considered Law in this regard had Law remained his subordinate, but there was nothing as humiliating as becoming the bitch of one's mortal enemy. No matter how well Law hid it now, this knowledge would eat him slowly from the inside out.

"What do you want?" asked Law, eyes like steel. "Just here to gloat?"

"How gauche. I came to take you back to my bed, but Aokiji disapproves."

"The disapproval of others has never been a concern of yours."

"True," admitted Doflamingo, "but Blackbeard has asked for more substantial information, and you cannot provide that if your mouth is full of my cock."

Law sneered. "Doubtful that I will tell you anything at all."

"I would believe you if I only had you, little one. I have neglected your friends for the last few days, but don't think I haven't forgotten them."

Doflamingo waved his hand, and the three Heart Pirate prisoners marched into the cell, their movements stiff and jerky as his strings compelled each muscle. Worry flashed through Law's face, and the sight nurtured bubbling warmth inside Doflamingo. How he loved seeing the little cracks appear in Law's façade as they formed one by one—it would only be a matter of time until the perfect stress was applied and Law shattered completely.

"You were always my best student," Doflamingo murmured, "but it's sad that you have not learned this lesson as well as I'd hoped. You have always pined for others' affection. Remind me, Law, what did I always tell you about friends?"

Law did not answer. His gaze was locked with his crewmen, who all looked back at him with resolution that would've been admirable if Doflamingo did not find it so stupid. He snapped his fingers, and the large bearded prisoner punched the short orange-haired one with such force that the crewmate flew across the cell and slammed into the opposite wall, crumpling into a heap.

"Shachi!" the bearded one said, stunned with his own actions.

"Stop it," snarled Law at his old captain.

"Then don't ignore me," said Doflamingo smoothly. "Answer my questions, or I'll have your friends tear each other apart right in front of you. Now, answer me. What did I always tell you about friends?"

Loathing seared through Law's eyes, but he complied.

"One more friend means one more weakness."

"Precisely. So I have three here, and likely seventeen more are out in the open with the Indigo Rings that Blackbeard wants back."

"Is that what you want?" Law said harshly. "Let them go, and I'll tell you where to get the Rings are."

"You are no position to be negotiating, my dear." Doflamingo traced his index finger down Law's cheek, noting how Law flinched at the touch. "So you seem to remember what I've taught you. What was always my code of conduct?"

He trailed his palm down Law's chin until it laid flat over his heart. Law glared at him, rebellion lighting a fire through his skin that Doflamingo relished. He was frightened, as he should've been. Doflamingo held all possible cards in this situation, and he wanted Law to know that. There was nothing more rewarding than breaking someone like Law, a dreamer who had flown to close too the sun, only for his wax wings to melt so that he could crash down to reality.

"Tell me, Law, or I'll fuck you right in front of your men like the bitch you are."

Law's jaw was rigid, and a vein throbbed at his temple.

"The weak don't get to choose how they die," he said, voice shaking with rage.

Doflamingo smiled from ear to ear. "Yes, and you, Law, are weak."

* * *

Spade had not slept well in what felt like forever. She and Marco had reached a pattern of listening to the Underworld news before bedtime, after which Marco would drift to sleep. Spade would simply lie in bed, tossing and turning as she went through countless scenarios in her mind. Each moment deep sleep attempted to claim her mind, she jerked awake, gasping for air and for peace.

Each passing day meant another day that Spade left Law to Doflamingo's devices. The urgency of the matter did not escape her, which made the fact that Spade had not yet made a move all the more unsettling. She knew Marco was waiting patiently for a finalized plan, but she could not rush her decisions.

The lamp oil burned low as Spade sat in her own room, poring over a map that she had long learned by heart. Her Den-Den Mushi slept along the edge of her desk while Spade drank a cool cup of tea, the leaves bitter on her tongue. Chess was a game best played between two challengers, but Spade was practicing the mental exercise alone in anticipation for the real match soon to come. The chessboard had expanded, and as much as Spade wished for there to only be two players—her and Doflamingo—limiting the number of participants in the upcoming battle was impossible.

The key to victory was to always understand what the enemy valued. In her current situation, however, all variables remained unclear. Spade was uncertain who her enemy even was: Doflamingo, perhaps, but she had never had a personal vendetta against the Heavenly Yaksha. The Yonkou who now sponsored him, was a different story, but what Spade wanted out of this exchange was Trafalgar Law, whose worth varied depending on the buyer.

She did not think Blackbeard wanted Law as much as Doflamingo did. With the Indigo Rings in Marco's possession, Law's baseline research knowledge was less useful without the substrate at hand. No, Blackbeard could not be a player in this game, because everything in this game was personal, which made exchanges all the more difficult. Doflamingo would hold onto Law as tightly as possible—Spade knew better than to underestimate petty hatred, because she had seen Law fall victim to its effects twice now. If Law had truly inherited as much of Doflamingo's personality as he'd feared, then Spade did not think his old master would behave any differently. It would take a tremendous amount for Doflamingo to give Law up.

If Spade had no other alternatives, she knew Marco could simply attack Doflamingo's ship to save Law—the ex-Shichibukai was hardly an issue for Marco in terms of fighting capability. The problem was Aokiji. Her old mentor sneaking into Blackbeard's ranks remained Spade's greatest and final trump card; revealing their collaboration in exchange for Law was not enough, and Spade could not afford to pit Aokiji and Marco against each other. A convincing fight would leave one of them mortally wounded or dead, and that was too high a price to pay for Law.

In fact, when Spade was angry and frustrated and feeling particularly vindictive, she didn't want to save Law at all.

She knew better than that. Marco had given her orders, and when Spade was lonely and missed Law, she could admit to the barest vestiges of guilt for sending the Heart Pirates out alone when she knew danger was just around the corner. It was her responsibility to fix this mess, and she would have to utilize all resources at her disposal to ensure Law's retrieval.

She picked up a pen and outlined a circle she had drawn around the Marine G-5 base, located near Punk Hazard. Fujitora's lack of communication made her uneasy about his allegiances; for all she knew, Akainu was already aware of her status as Hurricane and simply chose to keep mum until opportunity presented itself. Still, if Doflamingo had blackmail on the World Government Nobles, it would be in the Marines' best interest to recapture the Dressrosa usurper and an ex-Admiral who now flirted with the Yonkou. If Spade's ultimate goal was to save Law and his crewmates while protecting Aokiji's double-agent status, then it would be wise to involve distractors.

She just couldn't be stupid and assume that the distractors would not backstab her instead.

Spade downed her drink and rested her chin on her palm, exhausted. She had debriefed the Heart Pirates rather vaguely about her plans, considering that none of them knew that she was Hurricane. The lack of transparency understandably made them anxious and frustrated, but Spade was in no mood to coddle their feelings. She needed them to stay put and not cause trouble, and thankfully Penguin seemed to understand and kept his men in line. As the days ticked by, though, he became more persistent, eventually warning that if Spade did not establish contact with Doflamingo by the end of the week, the Heart Pirates would leave the base to retrieve their captain themselves.

It was pointless threat, but Spade did not want to test it. The Heart Pirates were a fiercely loyal crew, and Spade did not doubt that they were all going to save Law or die trying, with the latter being the much more likely outcome. Unfortunately, she liked the Hearts, and wanted to avoid their group massacre if she could.

In the late hours of the night, when no one was around, the isolation that was normally so soothing began to addle her brain. It was strange, being uncomfortable being alone. Spade had spent the better part of her time since Ace's death being by herself and it had never bothered her before. Since meeting Law, though, Spade realized that she'd been surrounded by people for several months now, and it appeared that she unconsciously preferred it that way.

 _Stupid_ , she thought. Networks were meant to be anonymous and useful, not obvious pressure points. Especially when her contacts could be kidnapped by their archnemesis as easily as Law had been. Though, in his defense, Aokiji had been an additional variable.

Spade felt completely drained. Her mental exercises only led her to plans that left simply too much to chance. She could not think of a failsafe way to extract Law and his crewmen from Doflamingo without sacrificing factors she was unwilling to give up in the process.

So ultimately, the question was: was Law worth it?

She reached into the drawer for a cigarette and lighter. The flame flickered to life and Spade inhaled. She had smoked so much lately that she didn't even feel the burn in her lungs anymore. She was surprised she could taste anything beyond the stick of tobacco drowning her taste buds.

If anything, she supposed she should save Law so he could cure her of cancer in several years.

 _I think I've loved you for some time now_.

Spade blinked, a virulent ache sinking in her stomach. No, this was not the time. She could not approach this emotionally; she was a soldier with orders to extract a target from enemy lines. She could not afford to remember that she loved Law, and that Law loved her too. No one had time for relationships, least of all Hurricane. Law was a contact with critical information that could not be revealed to Doflamingo and the Blackbeards. That was his only value, and what she lost in return for his retrieval could only reflect that and nothing more. This exchange was personal for Doflamingo, but it could not be for her.

Her Interceptor Mushi suddenly snapped its eyes open. "Incoming Call," it squawked, "from Candy."

Spade picked up the call before it even rang.

"Hurricane," she said curtly.

"They can make it in time," said Bonney with no preamble.

"Think they'll move?" Spade asked.

"You're probably better at guessin' that."

"I think they will," said Spade after some silence. "He's still important."

"All right. Want me to contact?"

"No, it has to come from Hurricane," she said.

"…All right." Bonney heaved a sigh. "Don't know what the shit is happenin' but whatever it is, stay safe."

"Mm. Thanks for all your help, Candy."

She ended the call, head and heart throbbing. Spade blew out a column of smoke, resigned. She could not delay this any longer.

There was no way that she could not make this personal.

What a burden it was, to love and be loved.

* * *

Admiral Fujitora was eating simple breakfast of egg whites on a whole-wheat bagel when his Den-Den Mushi rang.

"Incoming call," the snail said, "from Hurricane."

Fujitora fumbled for the transmitter and silenced it. Spade had reached out to him multiple times over the last several weeks, but Fujitora had been rather busy. Keeping the news that an ex-Admiral had broken an ex-Shichibukai out of Impel Down under wraps was very difficult, and Intel security had been beefed up tremendously. Every incoming and outgoing transmission from all Marine bases was being Tapped, and Fujitora did not have his own Blocker Mushi.

Fujitora waited until the snail stopped squirming before he relaxed and resumed eating his breakfast. He had just swallowed another bite of bagel when the Mushi started ringing again.

"Incoming call from Hurricane," it bleated.

Fujitora silenced the snail again and waited. One minute later, another call came through.

"Incoming call from Hurricane," declared the snail, and Fujitora could swear the snail sounded irritated.

 _I will keep calling you until you pick up_ , was Hurricane's subtext.

Fujitora sighed and after a cursory scan of his immediate area with his Observation Haki, deemed the coast clear and picked up the call.

"Hurricane," he said cautiously.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Spade was using a voice alteration program that made her voice deeper and almost incoherent. Her frustration, however, was obvious.

"Things have been busy, and now is not a good time."

"Because Aokiji broke Doflamingo out of Impel Down? Yeah, y'all really suck at keeping the bad guys locked up."

"How did you—"

"I know everything," she interrupted, impatient. "Doflamingo and Aokiji captured Trafalgar Law."

"What? When did this happen?"

"A week ago. You really shouldn't have dodged my calls. It's been all over the Underworld."

"We still should've heard about this. The Marines have Underworld contacts—"

"Not on my watch," said Spade dryly.

"Ah." Fujitora chewed his bagel, slightly annoyed. He had not wanted to become dependent on Hurricane. "Hurricane has absorbed Doflamingo's Intel Network."

"Yeah, you'll have difficulty finding others without going through me," she said coolly. "We can talk about that later. I want Trafalgar Law. I'm sure the Marines want Aokiji and Doflamingo. Be at Punk Hazard in six days at midnight. We can both get what we want."

"Why do you want Trafalgar Law?"

"Why does it matter?" she said shortly. "Just don't fuck me over. You'll regret it if you do."

The call ended as abruptly as it had begun. Fujitora had not even finished his bagel, but he set it aside, no longer hungry.

He did not like taking orders from Skye Spade, especially with such little context. It was unclear what Hurricane wanted with the Surgeon of Death, but unfortunately, the Underground Broker had monopolized the Underworld. While she was correct that Aokiji and Doflamingo were crucial to the Marines, it was unwise of Spade to assume that the Hurricane was worthless.

He picked up his Den-Den Mushi and, listening to the tones, dialed a number. After several rings, a gruff voice picked up.

"Admiral Fujitora."

"Vice Admiral Smoker. We need to talk."

Near the island of Punk Hazard, a hurricane brewed.

* * *

The boat swayed, and Law's consciousness flowed with it. It was difficult to tell how many hours or days had passed since his capture. Pain past a certain point felt all the same, and hunger could be dealt with, but dehydration was always a factor that Law struggled with. He minimized his movements and tried to drift off to sleep when he could, knowing that should an opportunity to flee present itself, he would need to be in command of his full capacities.

For a man who constantly overthought, sleeping was an arduous task even in peaceful circumstances. Under this degree of stress, Law's mind only whirred with fatigued effort as it dissected his situation and the dynamics of his captors.

Despite that Blackbeard certainly wanted substantial information out of Law, Doflamingo had barely pursued anything beyond his favorite personal pastime of cracking through Law's attempts at control. Doflamingo was an egomaniac through and through, eager to find Law's little resistances and bulldoze over them with the zeal of Big Mom with desserts. Law understood his old teacher and understood his situation—it was a part he could play easily enough, pretending to be humiliated as long as it bought him time.

It was rather obvious that Doflamingo did not like his new superior. He found Blackbeard boorish and loathed needing the protection that Blackbeard offered from Kaidou; the tension was something Law could use to his advantage, especially if he met the Yonkou in person. The only information that Blackbeard wanted from Law was likely regarding the Indigo Rings: information that Law was not particularly attached to. It was a simple trade for the lives of his crewmen; Law was not naïve to think that Doflamingo would let him escape as easily.

Thankfully, Aokiji did not seem to be keen about his shipmate. Law had not seen Aokiji since he'd brought Uni to patch up Law's wounds, but he attributed the relatively tame treatment from Doflamingo for the last several days to be the work of the ex-Admiral. For all of Doflamingo's puffed up bravado, he was wary of Kuzan, and for good reason. If Law's hunch was correct, perhaps Kuzan would be amenable to releasing Law as a favor to Spade, though it was difficult to tell if Spade preferred him alive or dead.

Perhaps it was silly to think that Spade's affection could turn so quickly after confessing her love, but the glint in her eyes when she'd held him at gunpoint was quite unmistakable. Law knew that she could kill him and would kill him; truthfully, having Aokiji kill Law would be an easy way to tie a loose and risky end. If Spade made that decision, Law wouldn't blame her. She owed him nothing.

The knowledge of this possibility, though, made him wish that she did.

"Fuck this shit," groaned Shachi. "Don't know how many fuckin' days have passed or what the fuck is happenin'. Hey!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the cell and down the hall. "Flamingo!"

"Shut up, Shachi," said Law tiredly, his body throbbing and his throat screaming. "What exactly are you trying to do?"

"We haven't had water in days," said Shachi. "If he forgot us—"

"He didn't forget," griped Law. "This is on purpose. If you get frustrated, you're only playing into his hands. Calm down."

"You're just wasting energy, Shachi," said Uni, the picture of calm. "Be grateful that we're all in the same cell, and have not been subjected to any torture recently."

Uni should've known better than to verbalize any fortune that they had. The cell door abruptly burst open, and Doflamingo entered, his dark glasses flashing in the dim glare of the torch's flame. Law instantly felt his body be taken out of his own control, and a quick glance over at his crewmen showed that it was the same for them.

"Who did you send the Indigo Rings to?" Doflamingo demanded, all pretense and pleasantries gone.

Law frowned. "I sent them with my crew."

"Do _not_ be smart with me," he growled. "What relation do you have with the Whitebeards?"

Law's heart skipped a beat. "What are you talking about?"

"I thought your alliance was with the Strawhats," muttered the Heavenly Yaksha, "and that Skye Spade had been in Dressrosa by coincidence…"

"That is correct. We have no acquaintance."

Doflamingo loomed so closely that Law could see his own reflection in his glasses. "Then why," he whispered, "did Skye Spade just call me to negotiate for you?"

Law's heart seemed to stop. There was no way—Spade had made it clear that Law was all but dead to her. Now that Marco had a cure for his spasms, Law's utility had expired; Spade had never been a fan of the war against Kaidou, and there was simply no reason for her to help.

"What are you worth to the Whitebeards?" said Doflamingo. "Why do they want you?"

Law's breath came shallowly. "I do not know."

Law prepared himself for a blow, but Doflamingo turned immediately to his crewmates. The Tenryuubito flicked one finger and a burst of blood erupted from Uni's hand as his index finger fell to the ground, cleanly severed. Uni made a sound close to a scream, clipped as soon as possible.

"Uni!" Shachi said, pale and shaking.

"I am in no mood to play games, Law," said Doflamingo. "Start talking, or I'll rip your crewmen to pieces."

"Don't say anything, Captain," grunted Uni. "We swore long ago that we'd die for you. We aren't afraid."

"Bold and stupid," Doflamingo sneered, "but I know Law better than that. You won't let your men sacrifice themselves."

Doflamingo snapped his fingers, and Law felt the tension surrounding his muscles cease. His crewmen collapsed to the ground as well, and immediately Uni ripped a piece of cloth off his sleeve and tied it around his amputated digit, stunting the blood flow.

"Tell me what Skye Spade wants with you."

"I don't know," said Law harshly. "Honestly, we are not on the best of terms."

"And what exactly are those terms?"

Law didn't answer. Doflamingo carried an uncharacteristic urgency with him, which meant that his actions were likely not sanctioned by Aokiji or Blackbeard. Whatever Spade was offering was a deal for Doflamingo alone. Law only hoped that Spade knew what she was dealing with.

He did not know what Spade was planning, but if she were truly attempting to negotiate for him, then Law could not let Doflamingo know the nature of their relationship. If Doflamingo understood that Spade and Law had slept together, that Spade had _loved_ Law, then she lost all power in this negotiation. He did not know what Spade was attempting to trade Doflamingo—perhaps the Indigo Rings—but it would become worthless if Doflamingo thought that Law was priceless.

"Law," Doflamingo said, voice low and dangerous. "This is your last chance."

Law looked over at his men. The exchange was silent but understood. Allying with a Heart Pirate meant loyalty and protection, and no matter how shakily he and Spade had parted, the alliance with the Whitebeards still stood. Law could not give up Spade or Marco if he wanted his name to still mean something respectable.

"She was displeased that she'd revealed herself to save me in Dressrosa," said Law half-honestly. "She made that clear to me before she left with the Strawhats. That's all. We have no further acquaintance beyond that."

"Don't lie. Right after Burgess gave you the Indigo Rings, Skye Spade defeated him, but Burgess's Vivre card led us to you."

"That information was inaccurate," said Law smoothly. "I defeated Burgess."

Doflamingo grimaced. "You were always too much of a smart-aleck for your own good, Law. You forget who you're dealing with."

Law felt multiple threads pierce his chest, right over his heart, like countless parasites tunneling through his skin as they inched at an excruciatingly slow pace to his heart. He let out a grunt, his hands balling into fists as he thrashed against his restraints in a fruitless attempt to escape the sensation of the invisible threads needling his torso.

"Your captain has always been skilled at excising people's hearts, but he seems to have forgotten that the idea originated from me," said Doflamingo silkily to his crewmates as Law struggled to breathe. "In three minutes, my threads will reach his heart. I will cut off circulation to each coronary artery, one by one, and you will watch as your captain's heart infarcts piece by piece. It will be a fitting end for the captain of the Heart Pirates, don't you think?"

"Don't listen to him," gasped Law, the pressure in his chest excruciating. "He can't—"

Strings snapped Law's jaw shut.

"I can and I will," said Doflamingo. "Your men say that they'll die for you, but will they let you die in front of them? It is always unwise to declare your intentions so obviously."

Law was frozen in place, the strings wiring his jaw clenched preventing him from even screaming as the pain creeping closer to his heart intensified with each second. He knew that it was impossible for him to feel the threads encircle his coronaries, but he could imagine it as the pressure built and, just textbook, the pain began to radiate to his left shoulder. First came the ischemia, then infarct, then a brief period of possibly reversible penumbra before the irreversible necrosis—this was actually how he could die, slowly but surely as the infarct spread until there was no functioning cardiac muscle left.

"Skye Spade was with us!" shouted Shachi, voice desperate.

"Shachi!" hissed Uni.

"Shut up," snapped Doflamingo, and Uni's lips sealed.

"I'm sorry, captain," whispered Shachi. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," said Doflamingo, voice now patient and kind. "Shachi, was it? You're doing the right thing, saving your captain and your friends."

Law could not speak, but he felt the chilling dread settle in his bones. Shachi was not saving them—Doflamingo had no intention of letting anyone out alive. Shachi was going to kill Spade.

* * *

Spade stood alone on the icy banks of Punk Hazard, cloaked and hooded as a blast of icy wind whipped all around her. Two crates of Indigo Rings sat at her feet. After Caesar Clown had been taken away from the base, Punk Hazard remained empty and forlorn. For obvious reasons, Spade preferred the icy side of Punk Hazard; in a strange way, the remnants of Aokiji's ice soothed her.

She checked the time. Doflamingo was already fifteen minutes late. Anxiety rippled through her—she did not even know if he would actually show. She did not know if _any_ players would attend the stage she'd orchestrated. What if Doflamingo rejected her offer? What if he'd handed Law over to Blackbeard already? Would Aokiji show? What if Blackbeard showed up himself?

There were too many variables, and she had too little control. Spade felt sick.

Thirty-seven minutes after the intended meeting time, Spade sensed a small ship enter the range of her Observation Haki. A quick probe relieved her: there were no more than five people on the vessel, and she could not sense any additional ships flanking them. She waited impatiently as the ship grew closer, finally docking, and all its inhabitants disembarked.

If Aokiji was confused with the situation, he made no sign of it. Tall, lanky, and composed, his expression was as bored as always, but his presence meant that Doflamingo had to have debriefed him of the negotiation. Spade had asked Doflamingo to keep Blackbeard out of the picture, but there was no way to be certain unless Doflamingo made an obvious effort to betray Aokiji.

Doflamingo was a giant of a man, towering easily over his prisoners. Law was by no means short, but looked the part next to his captors. He was clearly exhausted and beaten, but the apparent concern in his eyes when he saw her made Spade hurt. His men looked at her similarly, but they all looked to be in one piece. Aokiji had never been a proponent of senseless torture, and for that Spade had to be thankful—she had been expecting much worse.

"You're late," Spade said, breaking the silence.

"Apologies, but we'd made decent distance from Raijin before you called," sneered Doflamingo. "Took some time to turn around."

"Hello, Skye," said Aokiji.

"Kuzan," she said tersely.

"Rude as always, aren't you."

"You don't earn much respect allying with Blackbeard, of all people," she retorted.

Aokiji chuckled. "Where are your friends? Surely you are not here alone."

"It was one of my conditions," said Doflamingo, his Haki scanning the area. "I keep Blackbeard out, she keeps the Whitebeards away."

"Feel free to check the premises," said Spade. "I'm alone."

"Unwise," said Aokiji. "Did you seriously think you could get what you wanted out of this meeting alone?"

"I'm looking for a negotiation, not a battle," she said calmly. "I want Law and his men, you want these Indigo Rings. I thought we could approach this diplomatically."

"We could just take the Rings," noted Aokiji.

"You could try and you would fail," she returned. "I am very good at running away."

"You'd leave your hostages behind?"

"Sure," she said, voice cold. "You overestimate Law's worth to me. I'm here on a general courtesy. He's not worth my own safety."

Strangely enough, Law looked relieved to hear this. Unfortunately, Doflamingo did not look convinced. His smirk was wide as he approached her. Spade looked up warily; Doflamingo positively towered over her, and even though she'd grown up used to Aokiji's size, something about Doflamingo made the hairs on her arms prickle.

"Your act is very believable," he whispered, "but I've heard otherwise."

Spade glanced at Law. "Stories are different when told under duress. Careful that you don't just hear what you want to hear."

"Law has always been a terrible storyteller," crooned Doflamingo. "His crewmate, on the other hand, told me this delightful love story that entertained me greatly…"

Spade's blood seared. She had hoped that the nature of Law and her relationship would've remained quiet, but she would not have bet otherwise.

"If you think me fucking Law makes a love story, perhaps you should read a bit more," she said coolly.

"Nonsense, it's a beautiful one. You, the mysterious legend who saw her duo partner die right in front of her, with the traumatized Surgeon of Death who has always sought the love and validation of others…what a twist of Fate, don't you think?"

"I don't believe in Fate, so no. I am not here for games, Doflamingo, and you're already late," said Spade curtly. "If you want a deal, let's make one, otherwise I'm going to leave."

She stared straight up at Doflamingo, glad to see that her reflection in his sunglasses was stony and calm. Doflamingo looked unperturbed. Some men just loved to pontificate when they felt confident, and Doflamingo was certainly one of them.

"I'll call your bluff, my dear. The thing about _love_ is that it makes Law priceless to you, doesn't it? Do you really think you could exchange him for a few measly flowers?" Doflamingo settled his foot on one of the crates.

Spade swiftly kicked the crate out from underneath, her irritation accidentally amplifying the force, and the bulbs spilled out onto the snow, the violet petals lovely against the pure white. She surrounded herself in a cyclone, pushing Doflamingo away and becoming ephemeral just as she felt Doflamingo's threads attempt to wrap around her limbs.

"Don't fuck with me," she snapped.

"Fine, fine," said the Heavenly Yaksha, taking a step back with his hands raised in peace. "You're wasting good materials. But seriously, Skye Spade. This is a poor negotiation. Even from a purely objective perspective, surely you realize that Trafalgar Law is valued by _anybody_ to be worth more than these Indigo Rings? With my added deduction that you truly _care_ for Law…it seems all the playing cards are in my hands, aren't they?"

Law suddenly staggered forward, his movements mechanical and ungainly, a drastic contrast to his normal suaveness. When he was forced to a stop, his head was yanked back and his throat exposed. A ribbon of red appeared across his neck.

"Give me those Rings, Skye Spade, or I will cut off his head," said Doflamingo, his voice now deadly.

"These Rings are for Law's crewmen," said Spade calmly.

Doflamingo appeared startled. "What?"

"I'm not stupid—I know Law's worth," she said. "These Rings are for his men. Release them, and I'll hand over the crates."

Doflamingo looked at her warily, all signs of arrogance replaced by a general distrust.

"You look confused," she noted. "You're curious, aren't you? What do I possibly have to offer if these Indigo Rings are just for Law's men? I told you on the Mushi—I can offer you something that will free you of Blackbeard. But touch another hair on Law's head and I will nullify this agreement immediately."

"Another hair on Law's head, eh?" sneered Doflamingo. "You should know better than to give me orders when you do not understand your situation!"

Doflamingo snapped his fingers and suddenly Jean Bart lurched forward, his giant hands wrapping around Law's neck tightly.

"What do you have to offer, before I make Law's own man kill him right in front of you? How does it feel to be so helpless yet again?"

God, this was a game of pressure, a combination of chess and poker with a man who abhorred following the rules. Spade did not need to look at Aokiji to guess that he would not interfere; this was a situation for her to handle. He would only intervene if Spade herself was in danger—unless Spade made it clear that Law was worth saving, Kuzan would likely watch Law bleed to death as well.

So it was Spade's call. What was Law worth?

She took in a breath. There was no point backing out now—she was here, she'd made the call already, and she'd already resolved that Law was worth it.

Spade reached into her pocket and pulled out her Den-Den Mushi. She dialed a number and waited.

Something started wailing from the folds of Doflamingo's coat. Confused, the Tenryuubito pulled out his personal Den-Den Mushi, outfitted with the sunglasses and fluffy pink coat.

"Incoming call," it screeched, "from Hurricane. Incoming call from Hurricane."

The Mushi's announcement echoed through the beach. She could feel Law's gaze on her, as intense as Ace's flames, could hear the silent demand that surely both he and Aokiji had: what had she just done?

"What is the meaning of this?" said Doflamingo, stunned.

"It's obvious," said Spade. "You give me Law, and I'll give you the Underworld."

She finally moved her queen.

* * *

 _free talk_ :

 _ahhh this chapter was hard to write. hopefully some themes and hints i've set up from many chapters ago are coming through as spade and law reach a breaking point. law has never imagined that he was worth saving, so spade's move to give up Hurricane-the factor that protects her personally the most-is a huge sacrifice that law would have never expected or even wanted._

 _thanks for reading, and please review to help motivate me along! :)_

 _xoxo,_

 _m.n_


	17. Coriolis Force

**Chapter 17** : **Coriolis Force**

It was not secret that Aokiji was not the greatest candidate for the role of father, which was why Marines were thoroughly confused by him bringing back a young, bitter orphan when he finished his first rotation as Supreme Admiral at Shabondy Archipelago. Aokiji's rank was enough to squash any direct questioning, but rumors did float about. Perhaps the girl he called Skye was his bastard daughter, or a niece of a long-lost relative whom he owed some grave obligation. It was hard to believe the simple truth that Aokiji did share: she's an orphan who can use Haki, so she'll probably be useful.

Skye was, for all intents and purposes, strong. After the absorption of her Devil's Fruit and the repair of her legs, courtesy of Doctor Vegapunk, she rose to the top of her class in the Marines and showed skills bordering prodigious in Intel and Reconnaissance. Her offensive capabilities were better than average, and when she wasn't blinded by rage, she thought clearly and was a good shot-caller during simulated times of crises.

Nonetheless, Aokiji had always been disappointed by her Haki, which he'd expected to grow in leaps and bounds after such an early presentation. Instead, Skye's Haki reserve remained somewhat unsatisfactory, despite her trying very hard to accommodate for it by honing her control. Aokiji was rather blunt in letting her know how she'd failed to meet his expectations in this regard.

In retrospect, perhaps Aokiji shouldn't have been so harsh. Disappointment was a difficult thing for a child to hear from her benefactor, and he did not miss the effort Skye put in to seek his validation. She was never overt about it, and it took several years for Aokiji to realize that she truly showed no greater goal in life than to prove herself to him. She climbed through the Marine ranks at an alarming rate, though Aokiji thought her promotion to Vice Admiral was a bit premature and likely a PR stunt by Sengoku to increase female representation among higher ranks. The pursuit of another's acknowledgement was a foreign concept to Aokiji, and he hoped that Skye would come to understand that chasing others' validation was pointless when it could be ripped away so easily. It was why even though Skye's decision to pursue the secrets behind the Ohara Buster call went against direct orders, Aokiji let her run free. It was the first time she'd shown signs of independent action toward a moral code, and he was glad to see that the work he had put into mentoring her now yielded positive fruits.

He thought Skye had long surrendered the goal of seeking his approval—after deserting the Marines, every decision she made was one Aokiji disapproved of. Being a _pirate_? Having a duo partner and having an epithet as cheesy as Ace of Spades? It was all very ridiculous, but the point was that Spade seemed to no longer care for Aokiji's opinion. To an extent, it was almost offensive and exceedingly troublesome; Aokiji would have never thought that her blatant disregard for his guidance would lead to him nearly executing her, though all of the Battle of Marineford and its aftermath left a bitter taste in Aokiji's mouth.

Several months after after the Summit War, Aokiji found himself at a bar on a nameless island in the Calm Belt, where Ava Skye Spade had newly set up shop as a bartender. At the tail end of his recovery from his battle with Akainu, Aokiji was thinking of his next steps as he downed multiple pomegranate martinis when Spade revealed to him that she'd set up an Underworld Intel account.

"How?" he asked.

Spade was bemused with his surprise. "Whenever I can't sleep, I Tap channels. After a couple days, I ended up on some Underworld channels and figured out the general protocol. Didn't take much more to get access to their intermediate tier."

"You realize that these Intel accounts sell for upward of a hundred million beli, perhaps even more depending on their rank?"

Spade shrugged. "It's really not that hard. A lot of it came easily because of Marine training."

"Then why haven't they—"

"Because the Marines are incompetent and you know it," she said dryly. "Don't try to defend them. I'm sure your wounds from Akainu still burn."

Aokiji frowned. "Low blow."

Spade shrugged again. "It was your fault. You've never wanted to be Fleet Admiral—I don't know why you almost died for a position you didn't even want."

"Goes to show how much I dislike Akainu."

"You can say hate, you know," she said, dark eyes glittering. "You almost getting killed by him is the only reason I'm being nice to you now."

"Really? I saved you from the executioner's platform, Skye."

"Yeah, well, Ace still died, so who cares."

The statement was blunt and cold. Aokiji didn't reply, feeling a bit awkward and guilty, but Spade blinked and moved on as if nothing had happened.

"I haven't decided how serious to be about this Underworld business yet," she said as she sipped her own drink. The bar was closed and Spade had finished tidying up. "It seems like it could be useful."

"It's very useful," confirmed Aokiji. "Gaining access to tiers above intermediate is difficult, but once you do, you'll be able to uncover and disseminate information on your own accord. It's a fluid and dangerous power but it will be tremendous if you can learn how to control it."

"That sounds exactly like the lecture you gave me right after I ate my Devil's Fruit," she said acidly.

"I wasn't wrong."

"No, you weren't." Spade frowned. "But it sounds like it'd be a lot of work and stress managing moving pieces."

"It is. I hear there's a high suicide and homicide rate among Intel Brokers."

"Charming."

"I think you'd be good at it."

Spade arched an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Being an Intel Broker takes a lot of finesse and discipline, which you have plenty of. Your biggest weakness is your temper, but something tells me that'll no longer be an issue. You could turn this into something incredibly powerful. You're smart, you're discrete, and you've always been good at this kind of thing." Aokiji looked at her. "You could become quite a major player."

Spade looked at him strangely.

"What?"

"Nothing. You've just…never expressed confidence in me like that before."

Aokiji arched an eyebrow. "Surely that's not true."

"Seriously," she said dryly, "the entire time you raised me, I don't think I ever heard you compliment me. I always thought you found me terribly disappointing."

"You make me sound like an awful mentor," he sighed. "I never found you disappointing. I just wanted you to not care what I thought."

"Yeah, save a broken child, fix her, and hope she never cares what you think," Spade said scathingly. "How does that make any sense?"

"I wasn't your new dad, Skye. That wasn't my obligation or purpose."

"I know," she said, visibly uncomfortable. "I just never wanted you to think that you should've just left me in that alley after all."

Aokiji was dumbfounded by this admission. Spade had always held a healthy respect for her own life and value. It suddenly struck him that all those years of chasing his validation hadn't just been to make him proud in the way that a child always sought the acknowledgment of a doting parent.

She'd wanted to prove that she had been worth saving.

Aokiji opened his mouth to say something, but in that same almost disturbing way, Spade blinked and moved past the vulnerable moment.

"I'll see if I can gain access to higher channels," she said. "I think I can do it."

"I'm certain you can. Once you do, let me know. It'll be beneficial for us."

"Us?"

Aokiji arched an eyebrow at her. "We are allies, are we not?"

Spade didn't respond immediately. Aokiji studied her carefully, skin prickling into gooseflesh as he grew uneasy.

"Or am I misreading your intentions? Should I expect all these martinis to be poisoned?"

"We've just been enemies for a while," she said quietly. "Back on the executioner's platform, I really thought you'd kill me. And I know you didn't, you saved me, but don't you think there's something kinda fucked up between us if I genuinely believed that you'd let me die?"

The way Spade gazed back at him was hard but not malicious. Aokiji was not in any danger; Spade did not look like she was seeking his demise. Still, he had expected an understood trust between the two of them that he was now realizing he had taken for granted. It seemed that all of Spade's childhood insecurities that Aokiji had never realized were now rising from deeply buried graves. Aokiji should've known better than to assume that Spade still saw him as purely as when he'd saved her from that alley so long ago. He could not ignore the impact Portgas D. Ace had on Spade, and Aokiji could not change the fact that he had stood in Marine uniform on the executioner's platform the day of Ace's death.

"I have never once in my life regretted saving you from that alley," said Kuzan, his voice even but gentle. "Regardless of your decisions once you left the Marines, or even the decisions you make now. I am proud of the woman you've become."

He finished the rest of his drink. He was never the emotionally nurturing type, and that trait seemed to have passed onto Spade as well. That made the things he needed to speak aloud all the more necessary.

"I will never leave you to die, Skye," he said. "You have my word."

Spade stared down at her drink, and Aokiji looked elsewhere because her eyes looked glassy.

"Okay," Spade said very softly, almost childishly, after a long period of silence.

Kuzan cleared the lump in his throat. "Have you come up with an alias?"

"What?"

"For your Underworld identity," he clarified.

"Oh. I'm Hurricane."

"Hurricane," he repeated. "It fits in a somewhat roundabout way. Why though?"

Spade shifted on her feet uncomfortably. "It's nothing. Just sounded cool, I guess."

Aokiji let the subject drop, and they spent the rest of the night drinking in relative silence. It wasn't until much later that Aokiji learned that after the Battle of Marineford, his old student was only capable of generating warm winds, making hurricanes all the easier for her to create.

Ace of Spades never disappeared, but merely metamorphosed into something new, and in every action that Spade made now, the spirit of Portgas D. Ace lingered.

* * *

Shortly after the Battle of Marineford, Hurricane gradually became a recognizable name among the Underworld Intel Network, especially in the high-intermediate ranks. The quick ascension of an anonymous user through the Underworld Ranks was noticeable but not an anomaly. Genius hackers always appeared here and there, but true success in the Intel Network required more than technical Interception instinct. Many new Intel Brokers burst onto the scene like a roaring flame, only to fizzle out when their cockiness jeopardized their contacts, or worse, had their contacts poached from right under their noses.

Hurricane did not fizzle out, but like any new Intel Broker, they had difficulty breaking into the master tier of Intel channel. It typically took years to graduate from high-intermediate rank to the master tier, and no one expected much else from the new Broker. After a month of hovering at the same rank, Hurricane's activity virtually stopped, relieving other Brokers that there was one less fish in the pond.

Prior to the advent of Hurricane, the whispers of the Underworld and the news publicized by the World Government were kept fairly separate. Information always swirled in the Underworld whirlpool before being officially confirmed in the World News, and links between the two were traditionally shrouded in mystery. Few Brokers of any kind were known beyond their aliases, and when they did, they were revealed because the Brokers provided a tenuous but untouchable connection between the two worlds. Joker was one such link, for his status as a Shichibukai protected him from legal persecution for his many illegal dealings. Others did not have such a luxury, and contacts typically did not like to provide information to a named individual with clear political ties. Thus, Intel Brokers traditionally sequestered their information within the realms of the Underworld and its neutral anonymity.

That was, until Hurricane released a series of highly detailed and well-resourced child trafficking reports to independent contractors of the World News, signed with their Underworld eponym. The decision was a gigantic "Fuck you" to the Intel Gatekeepers who had kept their rank stagnant—in a revolutionary move, Hurricane had declared that they had access to highly classified information that the Underworld would have preferred to manipulate before being released to the public. In the weeks after the reports were released, Intel Brokers and World News reporters alike scrambled to identify both Hurricane and their contacts, but not a single trace could be found.

Needless to say, Hurricane was promptly welcomed into the master tier of Intel Brokers.

Spade's swift entrance into a field as tight-lipped as the Underworld Network would've been impressive among a shadier, less-upstanding audience, but unfortunately, the Whitebeards were no such group. The Underworld was a sketchy, dark society that reveled in illegal activities, which shouldn't have bothered a fleet of pirates if it weren't for the atrocities that were associated with other Underworld Networks beyond Intel. The economic ties of the Underworld were kept under tight wraps but often involved the transactions of highly classified and repulsive substances: human organs, merfolk fins, giants' blood, stolen Devil's Fruits, sex slaves of all races. To a respectable group like the Whitebeards, Spade's association with a network that not just enabled these markets but also actively allowed them to flourish was a huge stain to their moral code.

Spade ignored the others. She never listened to rest of the Whitebeard's opinions; Marco knew that she cared for his and his alone, and because Marco was not stupid, he did not tell her to quit the Underworld. However, when Spade appeared at the Whitebeard base shortly after the release of her child trafficking reports with a new proposition, Marco put his foot down.

"Absolutely not. Who the fuck put this idea in your head?"

He'd thought that Spade was beyond her reckless phase, but her current suggestion—to storm the Human Auction House at Shabondy—proved that he was mistaken.

Spade glared back at him over the glowing butt of a cigarette, which annoyed Marco even more; he did not like this new habit she'd picked up. The changes in Spade since Ace's death had been unsettling, from this unhealthy smoking to her overall quieter and broodier nature during meetings, so this spark of abandon would've relieved Marco if her idea weren't so ridiculous.

"This was my plan originally," she retorted. "It's been a month now since I published those child trafficking reports but the World Government still won't move. If we wait any longer, we'll lose all the momentum we have."

"I was against you releasin' those reports in the first place," Marco said. "I wanted you to be a scout for us, not to be meddlin' in the Underworld."

"I don't care what your men are telling you, it's useful," Spade snapped. "Since I got into the master Intel tier, information has never been easier for me to get, so you can tell Blenheim and Haruta and all the others to take their worry and shove it up their sorry asses."

"The Underworld is a volatile and dangerous network that actually trafficks the humans that end up in that Auction House," said Marco. "Why would you want to affiliate with that if you're tryna take down the entire slavery system?!"

"It's a necessary evil," said Spade coolly. "If the Human Auction House collapses, the World Government will lose a state-sponsored beacon of slavery. That's huge."

"You'll just reroute slaving destinations to shadier sites," returned Marco. "As shitty as that Auction House is, it's public and it's _visible_. If you shut it down, slaving won't stop, it'll just become harder to track."

Spade's green eyes glittered. "I am not going to let the World Government sell anymore kids. I will shut down every child slaving network with or without you, Marco."

"The Whitebeards cannot—"

"I'm not a Whitebeard," she said icily. "I came to tell you this as a courtesy. I'm going to raid that place and burn it to the ground, whether you like it or not."

Spade was being uncharacteristically belligerent, especially compared to how she normally was with him. Marco studied her seriously.

"This was Aokiji's idea, wasn't it?"

"For fuck's sake, it's not Aokiji's idea every time I want to do something you don't want."

"But it is, isn't it?" he pressed.

Spade's lips pursed. "He brought it up."

Marco swore, trying to keep his temper even. It didn't matter what Spade thought of her old mentor; Marco had fought Aokiji during the Battle of Marineford and the then-Admiral's killing intent was unmistakable. So what if Aokiji had saved Spade eventually—both Ace and Whitebeard had still died, and Aokiji's contribution to the right side of the war just seemed too little, too late.

"It was just a suggestion," said Spade, her voice slightly gentler as she noticed Marco's irritation. "He's not making me do it."

"That's what you think," he muttered.

"Marco, I want to do this. I heard…" Spade rubbed the back of her neck. "I heard they're purposefully finding and selling bastard Tenryuubito kids."

Marco stared at her, surprised. Spade rarely talked about her heritage. For all intents and purposes, Spade's life began when Aokiji brought her to the Marines. Marco doubted she'd ever mentioned her mother more than twice to him.

"Why?"

"They think Celestial blood might make Dual Fruits a possibility," she said thinly. "There's no evidence, of course. I guess they just wanted to test the theory."

"Who's they?"

She shrugged. "Marines, mad scientists, Vegapunk and his slighted mentees…they're just whispers on the channels. There's no way to know for sure."

Marco took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Spade's Intel network was a huge asset, having proven its worth already by giving the Whitebeards precise locations of several of Blackbeard's Titanic Ten. Still, he did not like how Spade was constantly tuning into the Underworld, her brow furrowed as she listened and decoded message after message. Marco could see it quickly developing into an addiction of sorts, a crutch and a distraction that Spade wrapped her thoughts around when she did not want to process other things.

"It's personal," she said when Marco did not reply. "I'm going with or without your blessing, Marco. I can handle it myself. Just wanted to let you know."

"No," he said finally. "I'm comin' with you."

Spade's eyes lit up. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," he said reluctantly. "I can't afford losin' you. But if we're doin' this together, you're followin' my orders. We fight when I say we fight. We back out when I say to leave. Understand?"

Spade nodded swiftly, relieved with his agreement. "Yeah, of course."

"Another thing. I want this Underworld thing…I don't want you gettin' too wrapped in it. I get that you like it and you're good at it, but it's easy to get caught in that part of the world and I don't want you there."

"But—"

"I need your head and your heart here," he said quietly, "in the light."

Spade seemed to understand his true concerns, and her features softened. "Okay."

But as much as Marco thought he understood Spade, he purposefully ignored the unchained streaks of her personality that he didn't want to acknowledge. Aokiji, on the other hand, clearly never forgot the true nature of the orphan he'd raised.

Only several weeks later, Hurricane released the world-shattering Ohara Revelation, solidifying the arrival of a new challenger for the Intel throne. Hurricane became a household name in the shadows of the pirate and civilian worlds alike, and many, including Trafalgar Law, began to follow the movements of the burgeoning queen of the Underworld.

* * *

"If you could have a conversation with anyone in the world, dead or alive, who would you choose?"

It was a standard interview question, as if a thoughtful answer could shed light on one's true character. There were good, professional, safe answers, like meeting the kings of prominent nations or the historic Fleet Admiral who had founded the Marines. A daring candidate could even venture to say that they wanted to converse with Gol D. Roger, Pirate King, to ask what it was like being such a world-tilting force, regardless of their views on piracy as a whole.

Law had never felt inclined to give a wise answer. He simply wanted to talk to Corazon and ask him just one question: Why?

It was the only word that Law could think of as Skye Spade gazed fearlessly back at Doflamingo, her stance prepared to retaliate to any aggression. The Den-Den Mushi's call continued to resonate: "Incoming call from Hurricane."

"Is this a joke?" scowled Doflamingo. "Do you take me for a fool?"

"What part of this is hard to believe?" she answered smoothly. "Me being Hurricane? Or that I'd trade Law for it?"

"Both," he snapped.

"I'm almost offended that you're so surprised. Brokers are so rarely women, but what did you think I was doing for the last two years? How do you think I ended up in Dressrosa right when you revealed the Mera Mera no Mi?" Spade ended the call, and Doflamingo's Mushi stopped its relentless screeching. "And who do you think raided your auction house after Hurricane released the child slave trade reports?"

A series of light bulbs lit up in Doflamingo's head.

"You bitch," he snarled.

"Yeah," said Spade breezily. "During your imprisonment, I took over all the Brokers you backed—currently, I have such a monopoly over the Underworld Intel Network that I can control what information is revealed down to the exact channel. If there's a ruler of Intel right now, it's me."

"Then what's the meaning of this?" Doflamingo demanded. "Do you realize what you're doing?"

"Indeed," murmured Aokiji, his voice startling Law. He had been silent for quite some time now. "A position like that is priceless."

Spade's lips curled bitterly. "Well, didn't you say Law was priceless to me?"

Doflamingo let out a burst of laughter. "Fufufu, this is just too rich! I thought this was a poor negotiation to start with, but you show yourself to be stupider than even my wildest imagination. You would trade the entire Underworld Intel Network for just one man?"

"Technically, four," she said wryly. "What you fail to understand is that Hurricane became worthless to me the moment I revealed my identity to you. The moment people hear that Hurricane is Ava Skye Spade, my contacts will cease to trust me. So here I am, trading something now useless to me, for someone who I doubt you can call useless."

"You jest," the Heavenly Yaksha sneered. "Law is worth but a pittance to me."

Spade's gaze flickered to Law. "I doubt that. Otherwise, you would've handed him over to Blackbeard or the Marines by now. You and Law aren't so different, you know. You're both obsessed with each other. But I'm tired of explaining myself, Doflamingo. Take the deal or don't. Either way, I will leave here shortly."

Spade raised her arms, palms outstretched, and her profile became blurred as the oceans immediate to the banks of Punk Hazard rippled and pulled upward. A gigantic wall of water surrounded the entire island, spinning at a dizzying velocity and trapping the island in the eye of the storm. Doflamingo glanced around the surroundings nervously; if the waters fell, all Devil's Fruits would be neutralized.

Aokiji remained unperturbed. The ex-Admiral closed his eyes briefly and the whirling waters froze immediately, encasing them in thick walls of ice.

"You always did fight well with water nearby," he commented, "but unfortunately for you, I neutralize that advantage easily."

"Frozen sea water is still sea water," she said. "A well-aimed icicle could take off a limb permanently, Doflamingo. Make your decision."

Doflamingo glanced back at Aokiji, who shrugged.

"It is a hugely advantageous trade, though I will not let you escape Blackbeard, Doflamingo," said Aokiji. "I will take the Rings and you to him."

Doflamingo scowled but acquiesced. With a casual wave of his hand, he released the threads binding Law's crewmen, and they stumbled over. Spade waited until the three Heart Pirates were abreast of her before she levitated the crates of Indigo Rings over to Doflamingo's feet.

"As an act of good faith," she explained. "Now unhand Law."

Law felt a key be inserted into the cuffs binding his arms behind him and the pressure released. The blood hadn't even fully returned to his limbs before he made a Room and appeared directly next to Spade, who, despite guarding her expression so carefully, could not help but look relieved to see him next to her. Immediately, though, her gaze hardened and Law was reminded of the circumstances they'd parted under; when this ordeal was over, _if_ they escaped, he was certain the first words Spade had for him would be far from kind.

"Don't think about running, Skye Spade," warned Doflamingo. "I guarantee you, with four others holding you back, you will not get far. I know the limits of Law's Rooms well."

Spade was unimpressed. "Aokiji's the real threat."

"Then I'm glad you understand your situation," said Kuzan.

Spade reached into her pocket to withdraw a tightly folded piece of paper. Law grabbed her wrist, forcing her to stop. The action made his own hand throb painfully. The slightest flexion of his wrist sent stings down his fingers. Law was in desperate need of medical attention, but doctors made the worst patients, and he ignored the signs.

"Don't," he said. "It's not worth it."

The look she gave him was mixed, a soft incredulity, as if she couldn't believe his concern when he'd already put her in this position.

"Empty words," she whispered back, "when you've made me lose everything already."

She shifted so that her body was hidden by his, and strangely enough, she brought one arm around his neck. She kissed him, chaste and simple, and her lips barely brushed his as she spoke, words hidden from the others,

"Run to ten o'clock."

Law did not bother asking why. He felt a warm wind brush his skin as Spade's folded note floated over to Doflamingo. Spade's body was tense against his, and he knew she was waiting for the right moment. Her breath lingered against Law's neck, and her embrace against him tightened. Law created a Room that covered him and his crewmen, who looked at him with baited breaths.

Doflamingo unwrapped the paper carefully. Just as he was about to unfold the last half, Spade became a blur of wind.

"Now!" she shouted.

The wall of ice surrounding them exploded, fragmenting into sharp blades that Spade wrapped into a cyclone and plummeted toward Doflamingo. The cyclone hit its mark, while the rest of the ice fell neatly into high stacks that separated them from the Blackbeard affiliates.

Law did not wait; he elongated the Room as far as he could and transported him and his men nearly half a kilometer away in the direction Spade had ordered. The relentless snow impeded their running, and truthfully there was no way to outrun Doflamingo's threads unless Law constantly manipulated his Room. Hurricane was nowhere to be found, but Law was not worried—he could go back for her, and her Logia form fared well against Doflamingo. Law's priority was his men, who had no Devil's Fruits and no way to combat Doflamingo's threads. He did not know what Spade had planned for them at ten o'clock, but desperately hoped that it was a vessel docked at shore. Law could not sense anyone near with his Observation Haki, but as he brought them closer to the shores on nearly the opposite side of the island, he noticed a familiar vessel emerge from the icy waters.

"It's our escape sub!" said Shachi joyously.

Even more surprising was the figure that exited from the vessel itself. Marco's blonde hair and purple vest, surrounded in his brilliant blue Phoenix flame, made for a picture of too-bright colors for Law's weary eyes. He was flanked by several others—Jozu, Blenheim, Namur, and Vista, while Law's own first-mate bolted from the vessel toward them.

"Captain!" Penguin shouted.

"We're fine," Law said, fatigued as he transported him and the others one last time right in front of the new arrivals.

Marco surveyed him up and down. "You don't look fine."

"I'm alive," said Law curtly, knowing full well that he looked terrible. He was caked in blood and grime and the dark shadows under his eyes made him look like death. "It's all that matters."

"I disagree," said the Phoenix almost lazily despite the urgency of the situation. "You've caused us quite a bit of trouble."

"Yeah, I can imagine," retorted Law, irritation bubbling easily. He was exhausted and in pain and now, overwhelmed with conflicting emotions of gratitude and annoyance because he had not asked for this. Marco's casual reminder of the grave and stupid mistake Law had made only chafed at an already raw wound. "Why are you here?"

Marco arched an eyebrow. "You're seriously asking that?"

"I asked you to keep my crew safe," Law said. "I didn't ask you to save me."

"Fuckin' brat," grumbled Blenheim.

"The world doesn't revolve around you, Trafalgar," Vista grinned. "Savin' ya is a nice impetus, but our lil Hurricane has set quite a stage, hasn't she?"

"What are you talking about—"

Then, Law felt it. Gravity shifted and an immense pressure pounded down on them from the heavens—he had felt this before, back on Green Bit when the blind Admiral summoned down meteors from beyond their atmosphere and leveled the landscape to nothing.

"Incoming," said Marco languidly. "Law, ya strong enough to handle this?"

Law snarled at the jibe and formed a Room, a flex of his fingers replacing the pounding meteors down with flecks of snow. Beyond the Room, the meteors crashed into the snow, evaporating the landscape into heaps of steam. Spade appeared in the Room amidst the smoke, her ephemeral form blending in perfectly.

"How the fuck are the Marines here?" Law demanded.

Spade ignored his question. "Namur will guide you guys underwater to safety. Heart Pirates, sail the fuck away."

"I refuse," said Law. "I will not sit idly by and pass on this chance for revenge."

"Are you fucking stupid?" snapped Spade with such vehemence than even Marco recoiled slightly. " _Revenge_ is what got you in this shitty mess in the first place—let me make it clear that _you are not in control right now_." Spade looked positively feral. "You have already made me give up everything. If this is going to be my last play, I'm going to fucking direct it."

"Law stays," Marco said calmly. "All other Hearts, get on the vessel."

Spade turned to him, incensed. "He's a half-step away from the grave—"

"He'll be fine. His Rooms are useful," said Marco. "I'm sure he can fight." Marco's blue eyes met his piercingly. "Can't you?"

Law nodded curtly. "I'm fine."

"Aokiji's gettin' near, Spade, and the Marines are close. If the Hearts are gonna sail out, now is the time while we hold them off."

Spade let out a hiss but did not fight.

"Namur," said Marco.

"Aye-aye. I'll let the others know to start moving."

"Thanks."

"Go," Law ordered his men. "I'll join you soon."

Penguin hesitated only for a millisecond before gesturing to the other three to get onboard the vessel. Law was glad he did not put up a fight—there was no time for him to temper down a rebellion.

"We'll fight the moment you give us the word," said Penguin firmly.

It was a good sentiment, but Law had no inclination of letting his men fight. He trusted his team and knew they were strong, but between the Whitebeard Commanders and Admirals now on the field, his crew was outclassed. There was no need for them to risk their lives recklessly.

Law did not wait to see his men follow through with the orders. Instead, he turned to Marco.

"I hope you have another ship ready for us."

"Of course, the rest of the Whitebeards are flankin'. Just couldn't get them too close or else they would've been found by Haki. Submarines are terrible but at least it brought us here undetected."

Law narrowed his eyes. "Why is our objective is a fight instead of escape?"

"Because if we had to give up Hurricane, we were gonna get way more from it." Marco looked at Spade. "Are all your players here?"

"Not yet, but the Marines brought uninvited guests," she said as she flexed her digits. Her eyes looked alight, and around them, the snow and waters billowed into columns that touched the sky. "But we can begin."

A pair of brilliant blue and green-flamed wings burst from Marco's shoulder blades, and he grinned. "Let's fight a fuckin' war, boys."

* * *

Eustass Kid had never been a prisoner before.

Born and raised on a small island in South Blue, Kid had always been bigger, badder, and stronger than all the other kids his age. His fiery red hair, dark lips, and wild eyes that burned like flames labeled him as a troublemaker before he'd even had the opportunity to make that decision himself, though honestly, he probably wouldn't have chosen any other path. Piracy was a natural road for him to embark on, much to the dismay of his parents. Fulfilling their wishes that he acquire "useful skills of some sort," he finished a brief mechanics apprenticeship when he was fifteen and then promptly set sail on his own. Eight years later, Kid had yet to return home.

While it was true that Kid had a bit of a brash personality and tended to act on impulse, it wasn't fair to say that he was stupid, a term that Trafalgar Law had called him repeatedly. Sure, he didn't have that "fancy genius" Law seemed to silently boast of, but Kid knew how to lead a crew in the New World and be damn scary doing it. He'd had plenty of fights, some more difficult than others, as evidenced by his many scars, but he'd never truly _lost_ a fight.

So yes, the experience of being a prisoner was a new one, and now that he'd been rotting in this jail cell for God knows how long, he understood that it was a shitty experience he'd rather have lived without.

"Fuckin' fuck," he said for the millionth time.

He waited for Killer to tell him to shut up, but his first-mate seemed too used to Kid's useless complaints to muster up a retort. Basil Hawkins remained silently in his corner of the cell and ignored them, like always.

"I'm hungry," complained Kid. "How long has it been now?"

"Since what?" said Killer dryly. "Since we've been in this shit hole? Or since Kaidou forgot he put us in this shit hole?"

"Both," snapped his captain.

"Over a month since we've been here," said Killer. "A week since they last fed us."

"Fuck," said Kid wearily.

"At least there has been water," said Hawkins, surprising both Kid and Killer with his decision to grace them with his verbal presence, "however sewage-like it is."

Kid privately agreed. Men like him could survive quite a while without solid food, but thirst was the real silent murderess. The cell they were in was wrapped in Kairouseki that neutralized Kid's Devil Fruit, while standard chains and injuries incapacitated the others. Kaidou clearly did not see the three of them as threats, considering that their restraints were lax enough for Hawkins to be meddling with his tarot cards comfortably.

Kid knew he was lucky to be alive and to have Killer with him still—Kaidou had executed the rest of his crew with a single punch after Kid refused to be the Yonkou's subordinate. He'd been surprised that Hawkins had made the same choice, which earned the Magician a bit more respect than the spineless Apoo, the only captain of their alliance who had bent the knee once they'd seen the extent of Kaidou's power.

In Kid's defense, he hadn't even been looking for Kaidou. He'd just been minding his own damn business, making an alliance to take down Red-Haired Shanks, _not_ the Strongest Creature, when Kaidou had just interrupted their plans and decided to destroy them. Why? Because they were Supernova, just like Trafalgar Law and Monkey D. Luffy, who had apparently offended him greatly.

 _Fucking Trafalgar Law_.

"What d'you think happened?" Kid asked. "Weird that they just forgot 'bout us like this."

"Indeed," murmured Hawkins. "We've been sailing at a faster pace back toward the New World entrance since six days ago."

"What?" Killer blistered. "How did you know?"

Hawkins shrugged. "My cards."

"You didn't think to share this information?" said Killer scathingly.

Hawkins was unfazed. "What would it have changed?"

Kid frowned. "So why tell us now?"

"Because I believe we have stopped." Hawkins's expression remained as sleepy as ever, despite that the news he brought was far from boring. "My cards indicate that escape is a possibility today, gentlemen."

"What the _fuck,_ Hawkins, can you be clear for once in your goddamn life and just tell us what you think is gonna happen?!"

"I'm gonna save your sorry ass is what's gonna happen," said a voice that immediately irritated Kid to the bone.

"You have gotta be fuckin' _kidding me_ ," he growled the moment he saw a bright shock of pink hair entered his field of vision.

"C'mon, Kid, is that any way to treat your savior?" Jewelry Bonney grinned down at him as she twirled a ring of keys in her hand.

"How in the four seas are you here?" demanded Killer.

"It's a long story. Sorta started out as a favor to Trafalgar Law, then morphed into something much bigger. No time to talk 'bout details now," she said, opening up the cell.

"What's going on?" Kid said. "Where are we? How'd you get onboard?"

"Snuck on a couple days ago, no one cared 'cause I looked like a kid workin' in the mess," answered Bonney as she unlocked Kid's handcuffs. "Don't think 'bout hurtin' me, Kid, 'cause only I know a safe way outta here without you gettin' shit on by Kaidou again."

"I won't attack you," growled Kid. "I ain't that stupid. What war?"

Before Bonney could reply, a Den-Den Mushi suddenly screamed from Bonney's pocket.

"Incoming Call from Hurricane," it wailed, echoing through the cell.

"What the fuck," snarled Killer. "You're Hurricane's contact?"

"Better than being Kaidou's bitch," retorted Bonney. She picked up the call. "Hey, I got them."

"Great," came a female voice that Kid didn't recognize.

"Hurricane's a _woman_?" he blurted out.

"Is that Eustass? He sounds as dumb as Law makes him out to be," Hurricane said, amused. "Bon, how far are y'all?"

"Ten minutes, max. Kaidou's got all his men riled up to get Doflamingo."

"If they'd wanted him, should've come here on time," said Hurricane bitterly. "Marines have been here for a while now."

"It's fine, they're all distracted. They just caught sight of the Marine fleet when I got into the cellars."

"As long as that doesn't scare Kaidou away, that's fine. Goal is for you guys to get in position and get ready."

"You owe me so much," sighed Bonney.

"I do," agreed Hurricane. "Thanks a bunch, Bon."

The call ended and Bonney gestured for them to follow her, as if it were perfectly normal for her to talk so casually with a prominent Underworld Intel Broker. The three men gingerly stood, testing their weakened muscles briefly before they left the cell single-file. As they maneuvered through the dimly lit hallways past rows of cells containing rotting corpses and skeletons of forgotten prisoners, Kid spoke up.

"Sell-out."

"Oh, shut up," said Bonney wryly.

"The key is to _use_ the Underworld, not let them use you."

"Mm, that's why _I'm_ savin' your sorry ass instead of the other way around, right?"

"Kaidou didn't have anything to do with the Underworld," Kid said heatedly.

"Kaidou has _everything_ to do with the Underworld," Bonney said disbelievingly. "Hello? Kaidou's _Joker_?"

"I meant when it came to beatin' us," said Kid hastily. "Didn't have to do with the Underworld."

"Yeah, but who d'you think told me that Kaidou beat y'all?"

"Hurricane keeps tabs on us?" said Killer.

"You shouldn't be surprised. Didn't she reach out to you guys multiple times? Maybe should've accepted her offer, then you wouldn't have been left alone for months."

"How long have you been contacts?" Hawkins inquired.

"Lil over two years."

"That long?" said Killer, surprised. "Hurricane didn't become well-known until a bit over a year ago."

"Who is she?" said Kid. "How d'you know who she is personally?"

"Less questions, more walking," said Bonney shortly.

They strode at a fast pace, considering that Kid hadn't used his legs properly in weeks, and after what felt like nearly half an hour of winding through convoluted corridors, Bonney led them to a ladder.

"Kaidou's ship is huge," she explained, "and he's a giant man who is supposedly unkillable, so his security's actually fairly lax. Apparently his architect made a bunch of secret tunnels that Kaidou can't use because he's too tall, so he never guards them. This ladder puts us out right on the edge of the deck—I got a rescue boat there. We move the moment this ship docks."

"Where are we?" asked Hawkins. "And why is Kaidou here?"

"Kaidou wants his Joker back," said Bonney. "Marines want their traitor. And apparently, the Whitebeards want our dear Surgeon of Death." She turned around, her face grim. "Get ready. We're in the middle of a war. Decide if you wanna run or if you wanna fight. Just don't die."

* * *

Aokiji was glad, truthfully, that Spade had not been so stupid as to literally hand over the Hurricane passwords in exchange for Trafalgar Law. As the sheaf of paper she'd given Doflamingo fell to the ground when a cyclone brimming with icy shards crashed into him, Aokiji caught sight of what it read: "Fuck you."

He had to give her credit. She had played her cards slowly and carefully, understanding the worth of each variable exchanged. He assumed the Indigo Rings were a small sacrifice for four hostages, though he did approve of Hurricane losing her anonymity.

The wall of ice that Spade had compiled to separate from his prey was a simple but effective barrier; Aokiji could create ice all he liked, but couldn't disappear it. He ambled over leisurely and broke through the ice with a gentle push of his palm, reinforced with Haki, while Doflamingo reappeared beside him, fury palpable.

"That fucking bitch."

"Do not worry," said Aokiji calmly. "We can catch her. They cannot get far."

Spade's whirlwinds prevented Doflamingo's threads from stretching far enough to let him fly, so they pursued by foot. Aokiji froze the waters as they moved, but when they grew close to the opposite shore of the tundra side of Punk Hazard, he sensed another ship enter the range of his Observation Haki. He stopped and held out a hand in front of Doflamingo, forcing him to do the same.

"What are you stopping for?!"

"You don't sense them?"

Doflamingo paused, concentrating. His lips curled deeper into a snarl.

"That bitch didn't come alone."

"No," said Aokiji, concealing his relief. "She didn't."

He expected the arrival to be the Whitebeards, but much to his surprise, a fist of lava burst through the waters that Aokiji had frozen, smashing the terrain right in front of them. There was no mistaking whose fist it belonged to.

The scars on his chest throbbed. Aokiji no longer felt so relieved.


	18. Stitched Undone

**Chapter 18** : **Stitched Undone**

Law sat comfortably at Spade's desk. It was one of the rare moments he had alone since they'd arrived at the Whitebeard base, and it would not last long. Spade was grabbing dinner from the mess for both of them so they could eat quickly before meeting with Namur to discuss navigation options to Wano.

The picture of Spade and Ace normally tucked away in Spade's desk drawer now laid on the surface, right in front of Law. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd brought it out again. There wasn't anything particularly special about the picture, other than he was sure he'd never seen Spade smile quite like the way she was in the photograph. Maybe it was because she'd been younger at the time. Perhaps Spade had been so traumatized by the Battle of Marineford that she wasn't capable of smiling so innocently anymore.

Or perhaps it was simply because only Ace could make Spade smile in such a way.

Law frowned up at the ceiling, reminding himself once again that there were more important factors to consider than competing with a dead man for Spade's affection.

The door to the room opened, and Spade entered, arms laden with a tray piled with steaming food and a jug of ale.

"Help," she said curtly.

Law made a Room and exchanged the tray with the photo, relieving Spade of her burden. She glanced down at the stiff picture that had replaced the heavy dinner.

"Why are you looking at this again?" she said wryly. "Pining for me? It makes you look pathetic."

"Please," scoffed Law. "I was just bored."

"Sure," she said sarcastically, striding over and replacing the photo in drawer. "Don't snoop, all right? This photo's personal."

"You've mentioned that before."

"Then maybe you should listen to me for once."

Spade sat down across from him, letting Law divvy the dinner she'd brought. She looked worn and thoughtful; Law had woken up at five o'clock only to find that Spade already gone, up on the roof listening to the Underworld reports.

"I've never seen you like that," he remarked as he began to distribute the meal into two portions. The Whitebeard chefs were quite excellent: today's dinner was chicken sautéed with sweet potatoes and a side of asparagus. Law approved of these health-conscious choices and suspected that Spade had made the request, because he could not imagine the Whitebeard commanders being pleased with a meal that did not require a frying vat.

"Like what?" Spade said, sitting down across from him and taking her plate with a nod of thanks.

"As happy as you are in that picture," said Law honestly.

Spade was amused. "I was joking about the pining thing before, but now you _really_ sound pathetic."

"I am merely making an observation."

"What do you want me to say in response?" she said acidly. "Don't worry, you make me that happy too?"

Law resisted the urge to roll his eyes dramatically. "I am far from needing that degree of validation, Miss Spade. I am perfectly aware of how completely different Portgas D. Ace and I are."

"Yeah." Spade bit into a sweet potato. "Don't worry, it confuses me too."

"I mentioned nothing about confusion."

"You didn't have to. You're just fixated on how the love of my life was Portgas D. Ace and yet, somehow I'm attracted to you."

Law speared an asparagus with his fork. "Not quite."

"What?"

"I am not confused by the attraction you have to me," he said. "In fact, it makes a great degree of sense." He glanced at her. " _We_ make sense, I believe."

"No," she scoffed, "we absolutely don't. My type is the exact opposite of you."

"Dumb and ugly?"

She glared at him. "Simple and not a manipulative psychopath."

Law chuckled. "Yes, you did mention that before. Something along the lines of Ace not making you think. But that's what makes no sense to me. From what I know about you, you _like_ thinking, overthinking, planning, all of being a mastermind. It's why you're Hurricane."

"I do like it, being Hurricane," she said after a momentary pause filled only with the sounds of her knife sliding across her plate. "I've always been good at getting information, hiding it…shady things."

"It's not a bad thing."

Spade chewed on a piece of chicken. "Are you sure?"

"Why would it be bad?"

"Because it's easy to fall into all of that," she answered. "I've had to torture a lot of people to get information over the last few years. Most of the time, the people I found were pretty shitty people. But I can be wrong." She poured both of them some ale. "I've hurt people that I wasn't supposed to, but sometimes I'd be so focused on my mission that it didn't matter. I could justify hurting innocent people as long as I got what I needed in the end. How can you say that's not a bad thing? Ace would've never let me get that far."

"You are telling me yourself that you knew it was wrong," said Law tersely. "You have one of the strongest moral compasses I know—why would you need Ace to tell you what's right from wrong?"

Spade let out a short laugh. "You need to meet more people if you think _I_ have a strong moral compass."

"I prefer people with a little more dimension."

"Like yourself?"

Law shrugged. "Sure. You said it yourself last night: people are rarely just good or bad. I am fully aware of my darker impulses—unlike you, they're nothing I'm ashamed of."

"I'm not ashamed," Spade said tartly.

Law chuckled. "Miss Spade, you can be fairly difficult to read, but nothing is clearer to me than your desperate refusal to acknowledge your bedroom preferences."

"My what— _how_ did we get there?!"

"It's an easy correlation," he replied, amused with her mounting discomfort. "You can justify your pleasure with torture and interrogation because it fits your role as Hurricane. But sexual kinks? You think it's unrelated and something to hide. It's this element that confuses me. How could you be so certain Portgas D. Ace was the love of your life if he didn't know this part of you?"

Spade had grown so rigid that Law half-expected her to just leave the room. He knew he was pushing her buttons, but long had he questioned Spade's portrayal of Ace: it was all a little too perfect, a little too simple. Spade was so much more than that, dark complexities and inner struggles that Law empathized with wholeheartedly. The thought that she could be fully understood by someone who appeared so simple-minded was absurd to him.

"It was different then," said Spade thinly. She seemed determined to win this argument, and Law was impressed with her willpower to fight through a conversation that clearly stressed her to the core.

"Was it?" he said dubiously.

"My _preferences_ ," the word dripped acid, "changed after I became Hurricane. I understand them perfectly. I just sometimes need an environment where I am out of control, for once. My preferences changed because I changed."

"Really?" said Law loftily. "Or did you just squash them out and rewrite your memories of yourself because they didn't fit in with this picture of Ace of Spades, where supposedly everything was rosy and perfect?"

"You should be really careful what you're suggesting," Spade said, eyes blazing.

"I am not doubting your love," Law said. "I merely believe that this part of you did not appear because you changed after Ace's death—it's always been a part of you. Perhaps you suppressed them when you were with Ace because you didn't think he'd accept it. I just want you to know that it's not a deep, terrible secret you have to hide. Embrace it."

"You're one to talk."

"I have things to work on, certainly. But my bedroom preferences?" Law smirked. "I am perfectly comfortable with sharing my fantasies, if only my partner were so willing."

"Oh?" Spade's tone was dry, but he could tell that she appreciated the shift in conversation away from her. "Do tell."

"Careful, Miss Spade." Law bit into a chunk of potato. "You don't want to fall down the rabbit's hole if you're not ready."

Law let the silence linger comfortably. He had provided an open platform for her to ask questions and probe his thoughts. He imagined she was interested.

He was not disappointed.

"You fantasize about me?" she said, tone carefully light.

"Certainly, I've fantasized about you since the first night after Dressrosa."

"Even now? You have me in your bed."

"Having you in my bed is one thing," Law said calmly. "The sex is fantastic, but a man always wants more, especially of what he can't have."

Another pause.

Spade stood up, and Law felt the barest disappointment. He was so close to broaching a subject he had longed to unravel, but he had pushed too far. It was too much for Spade to handle, an overload of introspection that likely only Law could deal with.

Then, instead of leaving the room, Spade appeared directly on his lap. She settled her arms comfortably on his shoulders, and her mouth hovered over his as she whispered,

"Tell me what you think about."

Law's heartbeat thrummed, and blood surged to his groin as she shifted against him. Spade was serious, aroused and curious, but her invitation meant something more. She was considering Law's observation about her baser nature, and Law was pleased that she valued his opinion so highly. She was testing him, and he would not waste this opportunity.

He brought a hand up to her tightly braided hair and tugged out the hair-tie. The other hand slid under her shirt and unclasped her bra before tracing to her front and cupping her left breast.

"It typically starts off with you on your knees, sucking me off," he said as he fondled her. The nipple hardened easily under his touch, and Spade bit her lower lip when he trapped it between his index finger and thumb. "Whenever you anger me, I just imagine how much better use it would be for that mouth of yours to be full with my dick instead."

His hand was now buried in her scalp under waves of black, and as Law gazed up in Spade's eyes, he read a paradox—eyes narrowed but pupils blown—and he smirked.

"I'd fuck your throat," he whispered as he gave her breast a playful squeeze before sliding straight down until he was in her shorts. Spade moved slightly, her breaths growing shallower when his fingers pushed aside her underwear and buried themselves in her wet warmth. "I'd fuck hard, until you're gagging and that tightness makes me come straight down your throat. I'd hold you there and make sure you swallow every last drop."

Law curled his fingers and Spade's breath hitched. Her eyes, now mostly full of black pupil, fluttered shut as Law used his thumb to find her clit; Spade let out a high, needy noise as he brushed it gently.

"Unlucky for you," she panted as sweat beaded over her skin, "I really hate giving blow jobs."

"I'm sure I can convince you otherwise."

He scissored his index and third fingers inside her while stimulating her clitoris, causing Spade to lean fully against him, eyes closed.

"Look at me, Spade," he ordered.

He and Spade had now fucked enough that Spade was largely compliant with his commands in the bedroom without much resistance. She forced her eyes open, face flushed, hair strewn messily as the noises she made grew higher with Law's every movement inside her.

"Take off your top."

Spade obeyed, tossing aside her shirt and then her bra without much fuss. Law leaned back and admired the view: the changes in skin color demarcating the outlines of her normal tank top, her firm breasts, her lithe muscles and unmarked skin. Without Law asking, she unbuttoned his jeans, hand reaching down his boxers with the practiced swiftness of one who was familiar with his body, and let out his full arousal. Law removed his hand from between her legs, his fingers dripping in her fluids, and brought it up to her mouth. Spade opened and sucked on his digits, the action so filthy and lewd that it took all of Law's self-control not to grab her by the neck and bring her to her knees to fulfill the fantasy he'd just voiced aloud.

"Then," he said, voice still level despite his mind quickly spiraling out of control at the sight of Spade's hollowed cheeks and flushed face, "I'd take you on your hands and knees. But not like normal. I'd tie you down with Kairouseki so you couldn't escape even if you wanted to."

Spade's mouth was warm and her tongue too clever as it licked his fingers clean. Law was not going to last much longer under the pretense of tranquility.

"Turn around."

Spade looked taken aback, and Law's expression darkened with her hesitation.

"Spade," he said warningly. "I thought we were past this."

She turned around, and Law tugged off her remaining clothes before pulling her back by the waist so that she slid down right on his erection. The warm tightness surrounding him made Law groan; he was not the only one drowning in the sensation—Spade was already writhing against him, seeking friction.

He kissed that spot between her shoulder blades, right over that crossed out S, before he brought both hands up to her breasts and palmed them as he whispered in her ear.

"I'd fuck you in front of a mirror." Spade was breathing so hard that Law was unsure she could even hear him. "I want you to see, Spade, what you look like when I fuck you hard. When you're on all fours and I'm pounding into you like you're my bitch, and you have that expression—like you hate me but you're still _begging me_ for it because you want my cock inside you so desperately."

Spade moved up and down on his shaft on her own. She was so wet that the movement was easy and fluid, and Law did not attempt to control the pace. He wanted to give her the mirage of control, right until she was at that edge and he snatched it away from her.

"I want you to see your expression," he murmured as Spade's breaths grew more rapid and became simultaneous with moans, "when you realize just how helpless you are in my arms." He toyed with her nipples, timing the pinches when she fell down against him, and the feeling of Spade's increasing wetness made him grin. "I want you to understand how betrayed you are by your own body because no one else can fuck you like I can, no one can make you feel the way I do because no one knows just how filthy you really are."

Spade's movements grew erratic, and she had a tell before she was about to come—a shudder and a high whimper of _"Law_." He heard his name now, and then he grabbed her hips and stopped her. She let out a cry, one that was supposed to be livid, but she was so delirious she could not muster up the energy to be truly angry.

"And then," he said, "I won't let you come until you call me Captain."

He thrust up, his movements measured and harsh, and Spade threw her head back on his shoulder with a whine and relinquished all control as he took over.

"I want to hear you scream," he said, his own breaths coming swiftly now with every thrust that sank deeper and deeper. Spade was grinding against him and sounded like she was in pain; Law did not stop his pace, and instead quickened until he heard that characteristic helpless, "Law," and Spade broke apart. He thrust only harder and Spade whimpered, her nails digging into his thighs as she sought an anchor through her stimulation, and Law could only feel the barest searing pain from her grasp as the orgasm slammed into him too.

Drenched in sweat and drowning in pleasure, Law murmured into her ear,

"I want you to scream it loud enough so that every motherfucker in the four seas knows that _I_ tamed Hurricane when no one else could."

* * *

The blows to Eustass Kid's ego just wouldn't stop. It was one thing getting his ass handed to him by Kaidou—at least he was a Yonkou, so there was nothing terribly unreasonable about losing to him—but getting saved by Jewelry Bonney was hardly gallant. He knew Bonney well enough to know that when all this shit was done and over with, the notorious Big Eater would hold this over his head and laugh, probably with a mouth full of pizza.

Getting saved by a fellow Supernova really sucked, especially since Kid had long commanded the highest bounty among his peers, until the whole Dressrosa incident had pushed Monkey D. Luffy and Trafalgar Law's bounties to exceed his. In a time of relative weakness, therefore, the absolute last thing in the world Kid wanted to see when his ego was whipped was the newly promoted-to-most-valuable-Supernova Trafalgar Law himself.

"Oh, you've gotta be shittin' me," growled Kid as the familiar blue Room captured their escape ship. There was a weird jerking sensation near his abdomen, and suddenly they were ashore, looking straight up at Law, who despite looking rather terrible himself, still managed to appear condescending as he drank deeply from a flask.

"I have so many questions," said Law, voice dry as he wiped a bead of water from his lips. The action turned Kid on way more than it should have. "But first and foremost, Eustass, just how stupid do you have to declare war on one Yonkou only to get captured a week later by another?"

"Wasn't my fuckin' fault," snapped Kid. "How come you're givin' me shit and sayin' nothin' to Hawkins, eh?"

Hawkins blinked his heavily lidded eyes. "You were the self-declared leader of our alliance. I suppose you can shoulder the blame for our failures."

"Shut the fuck up, card man. Besides, how much room do you have to talk, Trafalgar? I heard Doflamingo kicked your ass— _twice_. At least I got beat by a Yonkou and not some fluffy pink shit of a Shichibukai."

"Yeah, you're both real manly, gettin' captured and needin' to be saved by girls," said Bonney sarcastically.

"How are you even here?" asked Law to Bonney.

"You're the one who told me to find Kid."

"I didn't tell you to sneak onto Kaidou's ship and rescue him!"

"Apparently, she's a Hurricane contact," said Killer disparagingly. "She retrieved us under Hurricane's orders."

"Oh?" Law raised his eyebrows. "That is news to me."

"Don't act all surprised and innocent," Bonney retorted. "Why's she so invested in you anyway?"

"It's a long story," said Law coolly.

"How d'you know her too?!" said Kid, bewildered. "Is she here? Who the fuck is she?

"Focus, Eustass," said Law sharply. "We don't have time for explanations. Do you not see what's going on?"

He gesticulated around him, and Kid took a good look at his surroundings. They were on a snowy white island, which he recognized to be Punk Hazard from the Underworld broadcast of Caesar Clown's laboratory, and when he glanced back at the sea, his mouth dropped open.

Kid was not an easily star-struck person—he'd always been ridiculously strong and believed that the old time players were long past the stage of retirement. It was time for the new generation, no matter if it was the Worst Generation, and he was going to lead the way to the One Piece.

Still, it didn't take away from the wonder of the scene in front of him: the Marine Fleet Admiral's personal ship right next to Kaidou's, flanked by the Moby Dick. He could see familiar figures diving in and out of the cacophony of battles ensuing. Ice met magma and what else remained liquid of the ocean rose with fierce winds into hurricanes that stretched up to the sky.

"Is that…are those the Whitebeards?" said Killer, stunned.

"Oi, rookies." As if he'd heard Killer's question, Marco the Phoenix flew down and landed right in front of them in a brilliant blaze of colorful flames.

"M-Marco," greeted Bonney.

Kid stared at her—how was she familiar with _Marco the Phoenix_?

"Good work savin' these fellas, Bonney," he said easily. Bonney looked pleased with the compliment. Marco turned to the rest of them. "I get that all y'all are captains of your own crews, but since the Whitebeards saved all of your asses, you're gonna follow my orders in this battle."

"Now wait a fuckin' second," snarled Kid.

Marco looked at him lazily. "I'm guessin' you're Eustass Kid. Spade said you'd be a problem."

"He's not the only one," said Law. "I'm grateful for your help, but I have my own agenda to attend to."

"If you think for a second that I'm lettin' you anywhere near Doflamingo, I'll throw you into the ocean now."

"I'll handle them," said Bonney quickly.

Kid flared. "Look here, you pink bitch—"

Bonney placed a hand on Kid's arm and he suddenly felt the world grow larger. Wait, no, he was growing shorter—

"You bitch!" he screeched, his voice coming out high and prepubescent. He looked down at his hand as his mechanical prosthetic clanked to the ground next to him, no longer fitting his now significantly less muscular shoulder. "Fuck you!"

Marco looked at Kid, amused. "Can you do that to Law too? Think it'd give Spade a good laugh."

Kid was so confused. How was Marco familiar enough with Law to call him by his given name? Even Kid still called him Trafalgar, except for sometimes when Law did such good job fucking him that Kid sort of lost his mind.

"Lay a hand on me, Miss Bonney, and I'll decapitate you," said the Surgeon, deadpan.

Bonney rolled her eyes. "Then don't be stupid. Where d'you need us, Marco?"

"We wanna control the flow of the battle. You Supernova are on Kaidou duty. Whitebeards are on Marine duty. Everyone wants to kill everyone else, but there's a general pecking order. Akainu wants Aokiji. Aokiji wants Law. Kaidou wants Doflamingo. Doflamingo wants Law."

"Why does everyone want Trafalgar?" demanded Kid, hating that his voice came out squeaky.

"Beats me, he's a real pain in the ass," said Marco.

"And what do you guys want?" Law asked, gaunt eyes narrowed.

"We were thinkin' Doflamingo would bring Blackbeard," Marco frowned. "Don't think he's here though."

Law shook his head. "Doflamingo hates Blackbeard—he wouldn't have invited him if he could help it. If anything, I thought Aokiji would tell him."

"Guess not," said Marco smoothly. "So we're goin' for Akainu. He's the fucker who killed Ace anyway. So leave him to us. Everyone else is fair game."

"And Miss Spade?"

"What about her?"

"Doflamingo will want her too."

"Don't worry 'bout Spade. She's movin' on my orders."

Law nodded curtly, and Bonney looked resolute. Hawkins seemed as bored as always, but Killer's expression mirrored how his captain felt. They were missing out on crucial pieces of information, but there was no purpose in demanding answers when the world was raging to collapse around them.

"You're surrounded by strong folk," said Marco with a wry smile. "Try your best to keep up."

Kid bristled at the jibe, but before he could retort in that prepubescent voice of his, the Phoenix ascended into the air in a burst of turquoise flames. Kid turned to Bonney irritably, only to find that her face had gone somewhat slack as she watched Marco's form disappear into the chaos.

"Hey, pink bitch."

Bonney snapped out of her reverie and stared him down haughtily.

"Wanna try that again, pipsqueak?"

"I could cut you up even if I were a baby," snapped Kid.

Bonney grinned. "Let's test that theory."

"Later," said Law shortly. "Turn him back to normal, Miss Bonney. We should move out."

"Never pegged you to finally follow someone else's orders," she remarked as she patted Kid's head and he sprouted back to his normal height, towering over her.

"I'm not. You guys can be on Kaidou duty. I have someone else to find."

"Are you kiddin' me, Trafalgar?" Bonney said disbelievingly. "I dunno how you ended up being caught by Doflamingo in the first place but don't make the same fucking mistake!"

"I won't," he said calmly. "I know what I'm doing."

"Spade orchestrated a war for you!"

"I know." Law engulfed them in a Room that stretched far out to the sea. "I intend to take full advantage of it. Here."

He shoved the half-full flask in Kid's hands.

"You probably need the hydration," he said. "Share with Hawkins and Killer. I'll join you all later. What I'm doing is close to Kaidou duty anyway."

The blue Room flickered and disappeared, Law with it. Kid let out a breath as he reattached his prosthesis and gulped down some water. It tasted bitter.

"C'mon Killer," he said gruffly.

"Are you serious about this?" Killer said dubiously. "We just got free—we ain't gotta be here!"

"You heard the bird-man," his captain replied. "The strongest people in the world are here. If we can't keep up, we ain't gonna stand a chance in the future."

With his last breath, Whitebeard had ushered in a new age of piracy. The last two years had stagnated the flow of the new era, but things were different now. Rising from the ashes of Law's Dressrosa rebellion and the creation of the Tri-Supernova alliance, the Battle at Punk Hazard would mark the beginning of the end of the power structures as the world knew it.

* * *

Since Ace's death, the visions of his demise seized Spade frequently and at inopportune moments. She never forgot that feeling, when she'd clasped his hand in hers and the fire in his skin disappeared, a candle flame flickering into nothing. That feeling she got in her chest, a terrible hollowness, a gnawing emptiness, was verifiably the worst feeling in the world, the sensation of the universe collapsing into vacant anarchy.

So Spade knew what it felt like for the world to be ending, and she'd seen it too, at the Battle of Marineford when legends fought with legends and she watched from her spot on the executioner's platform as the apocalypse played out like a surreal action film. It was a time in her life she never willingly revisited, so it was ironic that she now called for it on her own—Hurricane's last play, where the stage was stacked with actors who could upend the cosmos individually. Bring them together, and it was like she was asking for Armageddon.

Actors, distractors, they were all the same. The key to this chess match was that there were multiple players with multiple objectives. Spade had not thought that Fujitora would bring Akainu personally, but she certainly did not believe that the blind Admiral would let Law and Hurricane walk free, especially when Fujitora had been tasked with finding Law personally after the Dressrosa incident. Akainu was an unfortunate variable, because surely Aokiji did not want to see the man who'd brought him to the brink of death but had not delivered the final blow out of pity. The Marines would prioritize Aokiji and Doflamingo, but could easily attempt to collect all present bounties. She had expected Doflamingo to have Blackbeard waiting in the wings as well, and Blackbeard's priorities were questionable.

So, anticipating the need for a distractor to her distractor, Spade invited Kaidou to come collect his Joker too.

She had to be proud of herself. As much as she would miss being Hurricane, this was a fitting end for her Underworld title; after this day, regardless of how it ended, the world would know that Hurricane had at least lived and died on her own accord.

Like the fierce winds that ripped through the dark night sky of Punk Hazard, Hurricane, from start to finish, could not be tamed.

* * *

Law knew that seeking out Doflamingo was, to others, a stupid idea. After all, why walk back into the jaws of the dragon he'd just escaped from? One would think that Law's time being Doflamingo's plaything should've sent him running as far as he could manage, but Law knew his mentor and his intentions. No, he would not run like some whipped dog, letting the knowledge that Doflamingo had won eat him from the inside out. This game of cat and mouse had gone on for too long—it had to end here, today, now. Law would not leave this island until either he or Doflamingo lay dead.

The chaos of the ongoing battle made it easy for Law to flit through snowy landscape, dodging meteors and falling fists of magma all the same. He needed to keep an eye out for everyone, really, because without his crew here, Law did not have an ally he could rely on.

He turned a corner to arrive at the beach where Doflamingo had initially docked and was disappointed to find it empty. The ship that they'd arrived on was now a pile of smoking rubble, having been smashed by a meteor into smithereens. Law closed his eyes, sensing the contents of his Room as it extended him below the water's surface. It was a slim possibility that had occurred to Law when Marco arrived with the escape sub; perhaps Doflamingo had not sunk the Polar Tang—its state-of-the-art technology made the vessel worth its weight in gold—and instead had dragged it with them.

Sure enough, Law sensed the submerged boat and brought it up to the surface with a flick of his palm. The action caused a brief tingle to shoot up his arm, but the Polar Tang appeared on shore with a giant thud, looking impressively pristine. Relief washed over him. It felt like a sign; when all this was over, his crew would not have to start from scratch.

A murderous intent suddenly surged behind him, and Law instinctively ducked forward, narrowly dodging a whip of burning coils as it pierced where he'd been seconds earlier. Cloaked in a smaller Room, Law skirted to the side, the Room providing a protective barrier against the invisible threads that sought to seize his limbs.

"About to run away?" Doflamingo appeared on a snowy boulder behind him, his pink coat blowing fiercely in the relentless winds.

"Hardly," said Law coldly.

The Tenryuubito hopped down from his perch and straightened up, towering over Law.

"Your little girlfriend had more surprises up her sleeve than I imagined," he remarked. "You should be proud."

"She is hardly more than an acquaintance."

Doflamingo barked out a laugh. "An acquaintance? Law, to her, you are worth the Apocalypse. I imagine you see her similarly. You were always so anxious to give your heart to those who offered theirs to you willingly."

"Are you jealous, perhaps?" Law turned his hand and Kikoku fell to the ground in front of him, retrieved from the depths of the Polar Tang. "You always did like to be the center of attention. Don't worry, Doflamingo." He unsheathed his blade, and the familiar weight of Kikoku in his palms gave him a sense of calm, restoring energy that he dearly needed. "You have always been the most important to me."

"I should've snapped your neck when you were a brat," Doflamingo sneered, "when I had the chance."

"You've had plenty of chances. Perhaps you should've done it when you had me in Kairouseki, but you chose to fuck me instead."

Doflamingo's lips curled. "A choice I don't regret."

"Perhaps you should."

Law's Room expanded instantaneously and a boulder replaced a falling speck of snow right over Doflamingo's head. The Heavenly Yaksha dodged narrowly and moved on the offensive, but Law parried his blows with Kikoku efficiently.

Something felt different. Law was tired, starved, and severely wounded, but he felt none of those things as he should have. He thought clearly, reacted sharply, and the pain in his limbs wasn't noticeable as he fought evenly with Doflamingo.

The reason struck him: the drink Marco had given him earlier must've been laced with Indigo Ring.

The lack of pain made Law fight more aggressively, allowing him to manipulate his Rooms in a reckless way he would've never dared to before. Being around Spade for so long had given Law some insight into manipulating landscape to his advantage. They were surrounded in salt water, and the frozen icicles that Aokiji had created still scattered the landscape. Law did not forget Spade's previous warning—that a well-aimed icicle could sever a Devil Fruit user's limb—and utilized the shards of ice to his advantage.

He could tell that Doflamingo felt pressured as he was forced to dodge boulders, saltwater icicles, and even the Polar Tang itself multiple times. God, what an indescribable feeling it was, actually _winning_ against Doflamingo, watching his arch-nemesis get gradually cornered. Twice, Law nearly amputated a limb by shooting a giant shard of frozen seawater at Doflamingo, and the furrowed brow between Doflamingo's glasses made his frustration obvious.

"How are you doing this?" he demanded as Law created two separate Rooms, one snug to his profile while the other encapsulated a maximum range. "There's no way you should be able manipulate two Rooms right now."

"You always did underestimate me."

"No, I merely know your limitations. This isn't possible!"

Law swiped Kikoku out in response, and the Haki ballooned out so forcefully that it cut the beach into two. Doflamingo leapt up, but Law was prepared. He threw a snowball as far up as he could, and at its apex, switched it with another icicle. Doflamingo knew the implications of being pierced by seawater and was forced to dodge yet again in midair, but only enough to avoid the point of the spike.

Law took a deep breath and again switched the shard, but this time with the Polar Tang. Doflamingo could not dodge, and thus created a clone to take the blow instead. Having anticipated the move, Law let the Polar Tang collide with his former captain. The submarine forced Doflamingo to the ground with a thundering crash, trapping him under his weight.

Law approached the vessel slowly, beginning to feel the barest vestiges of exhaustion seep into his system. Perhaps he should've drank more from Marco's flask.

He stopped next to Doflamingo's head as it protruded from the edge of the Polar Tang's base. "I hope you're still alive, Doflamingo. Death by submarine seems rather ill-fitting for a man of your stature."

"Hah…" breathed the Tenryuubito, clearly in agonizing pain. "Why didn't my clone work…"

"It's been a long time since you outfitted your own ship," said Law. "Perhaps you've forgotten that the Polar Tang is coated in Kairouseki." He would have to thank Ikkaku for doing such an excellent job maintaining the submarine's exterior. "You were so busy dodging those icicles that you forgot there was another source of seastone that could incapacitate you."

"You were always…such a sneaky bastard."

"Indeed," murmured Law, allowing his eyes to flutter shut for a brief moment.

Gods, he was so tired.

Was this what victory tasted like? How sweet, how delightful, how _delicious_. As the world ended around him, Law felt entirely at peace. A raging hatred had quelled into a numbing tranquility. He wanted to savor this moment, because this was all that mattered—defeating Doflamingo _was_ his world, everything that his life had culminated into since thirteen years ago when Corazon had died.

 _This is it_ , he thought. _Corazon, I'm doing it._

Something rushed behind Law and collided with the Polar Tang with a ferocious thud. Law snapped open his eyes and turned around, Kikoku prepared, only to find Spade slumped against the edge of the submarine.

"Spade!"

Her eyes barely flickered open as Law knelt down beside her. He brought a hand up to her neck, feeling for her carotid pulse.

"What the fuck are you doing here," she coughed. Blood trickled down her forehead, and Law brushed it aside. The Kairouseki must have forced her to materialize, because Law had seen Spade vaporize on impact more than once to decrease the force of the blow.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." She pushed him off and staggered to her feet. As she did, she spotted Doflamingo trapped under the Polar Tang and grimaced. "So that's why you weren't with Bonney—fucking Christ, Law, you have issues."

"I won," said Law simply.

"He still looks alive to me," said Spade. "I thought you were smart, but no, chase Doflamingo while Kaidou is 'bout to kill us all. Fucking priorities."

"We all have different priorities." He did not miss the smell of singed skin coming from Spade. "Are you burned?"

She shook her head. "I'm okay, but Marco took a hit for me. I need to get back." She took a step away from the Polar Tang and her profile became blurred as she entered her Logia form.

She looked up at the fight she'd just been blasted out of, where magma clashed with ice around a burst of Phoenix flame. Marco ducked in and out of the Logia attacks, clearly targeting only Akainu, but Aokiji attacked both of them indiscriminately. Law had only seen Marco fight briefly, but the blue flame's stuttered movements were atypical even to an unpracticed eye. Something was wrong.

Spade uttered a curse.

"He's spasming. Law, switch us."

"If Akainu or Aokiji hits you, you'll lose," Law said. "Marco has regeneration, but both of them are stronger than you and will force you to materialize."

"Aokiji won't hurt me. I can dodge Akainu. Switch us," Spade said harshly.

"No."

"Fuck you," she snapped. "I told you—this is _my_ fucking stage and I'm calling the shots—"

Spade stopped abruptly as a column of ice suddenly pierced Marco through just as he dodged a pillar of magma. Amidst the blue and green wings, there was an undeniable spurt of blood.

Spade whirled around, eyes wide and face as white as a sheet, and shoved something into Law's hand.

" _Switch us!_ "

There was so much more to those two words. Law read a terrified desperation in them, the underlying message that this was a non-negotiable order because Spade was not afraid of dying, she was afraid of Marco dying and the Whitebeards losing and vengeance never being achieved over either the Marines or Blackbeard.

And because Law was on the brink of achieving his own justice, because he finally had Doflamingo pinned down and beaten and because he and Spade had always understood that revenge was more important than any hope of love between the two of them, Law listened, and for once in his life, he obeyed.

The Room expanded and Spade disappeared, replaced by Marco. The Phoenix staggered and Law caught him by the waist. His arm was immediately drowned in sticky warmth, and as he sat Marco down on the snow, blood poured from a wound in Marco's abdomen.

"What did you just do," Marco breathed. Blood trickled down his chin, and he coughed weakly.

"Spade told me to."

"For fuck's sake, you never listen to anyone and that's the one time you do?" he said with surprising vehemence for how awful he looked. "She's gonna die!"

Law brought a hand to Marco's wound, where the icicle was already melting. It must've been made from the sea, for Marco's flames licked at the injury but could not repair it. "She said Aokiji wouldn't hurt her."

Marco grimaced. "She's wrong. He feels like how he was at Marineford. Can you remove the sea salt from the wound? I can heal if you do."

Law created a small Room right over the injury and with some concentration, replaced the salt from the melted icicle with freshly fallen snow. Marco groaned slightly as his flames engulfed his body, but after only seconds, he emerged, looking completely untouched.

"Spasm?" said Law.

Marco shook his head. "It's passed." He got to his feet comfortably. "If you're gonna kill Doflamingo, do it now. I need you to help with Spade—"

"Skye does not need your help at the moment. I would think twice before laying a hand on Doflamingo."

Both of them turned to find Aokiji standing behind them, his normally cavalier disposition replaced by a hard edge in his eyes. His clothes were smoking slightly, but he looked largely unhurt. Beside him was a giant pillar of ice, and frozen inside it was Spade, her arm outstretched like she was in the middle of creating a cyclone.

"She's alive," said Aokiji calmly, "for now."

"You fuckin' bastard," growled Marco. "She trusted you."

"Her mistake," replied the ex-Admiral smoothly. "She certainly couldn't have expected much from me after bringing Akainu here." Aokiji glanced back at sea, where the large fists of magma were currently occupied with Kaidou's ship. "I suppose that wasn't her intention, though."

"What do you want?" demanded Marco.

"Nothing from you. Law, on the other hand, can give me the man he's trapped under his submarine. Give me Doflamingo, and I will not shatter Skye Spade into pieces."

"Why do you—"

"You have five seconds." Aokiji leaned casually against the pillar, his arm brimming with Haki. "Five. Four."

Law felt the fluttering of panic in his chest—a truly unfamiliar feeling, because he never panicked—he was a notoriously levelheaded individual who always had a plan, but the problem was the Law hadn't had a plan for what seemed like years now. Everything since he and Spade had separated felt like a colossal "Fuck you" from Fate, because Law did not have control. The effects of the Indigo Ring had worn off, and every cell in his body screamed with pain. It took all the pride and energy he had not to pass out right here, let alone create a Room.

"Three."

"Trade," said Marco through gritted teeth.

Trade? But Law finally had it— _he had Doflamingo_ , his world, his vengeance, the moment the entirety of his adulthood had culminated into. Trade it? For what? For a woman who hated him, who didn't trust him, a woman he'd known for less than a few months? How was this a trade worth it?

"Two."

" _Law_."

No. He was going to kill Doflamingo. Aokiji may kill Spade, but at least Marco was safe, so Spade could die happy knowing that the man who would ultimately take down Blackbeard and Akainu was alive and well and capable of enacting the vengeance she knew she never could. This was what Law and Spade understood about each other. Spade would've never died for him and vice versa, because there were bigger players in the picture and goals to achieve, systems to overthrow and worlds to conquer.

They were not Ace of Spades, their names did not make a pun and nothing about them was perfect and rosy and maybe at the end of the day, Law was wrong because they truly didn't make any sense—

But there was that time Spade had looked at him with something close to that smile memorialized in that photograph, after the _I think I love you_ and the _I think I've loved you for some time now_ —

"One."

But who had accomplished anything while being in love?

* * *

 _free talk:_

 _the first fifteen or so chapters of this fic just flowed so naturally to me, but these last couple have been difficult to get through. thanks for your patience - hopefully i'll get over this writer's block soon._

 _also thanks to everyone who reviewed or pm'ed me - your thoughts and insights into this fic are really incredible. i try my best to think a lot about plot, dialogue, and themes through this story, so it is rewarding to see people pick up on the little things i hint at or even come up with their own interpretations._

 _as much as people may think law is being stupid, don't hate him too much. his rashness when it comes to doflamingo makes a lot of sense. thirteen years and more of torment doesn't come undone easily._

 _hope you enjoyed and please review!_

 _xoxo,  
m.n_


	19. Post-Operation

**Chapter 19** : **Post-Operation**

Life in Wano had been fairly quiet for the most part. Robin did not mind. Though she missed Luffy and was obviously worried about the rest of her crewmates, she understood that her time in Wano thus far was merely the calm before the storm, and so she appreciated it when she could. The Wano rebel forces had provided adequate shelter and impressive accommodations given their circumstances—the Strawhats and Minks were housed in traditional bamboo homes on what looked like royal grounds. Momonosuke explained that their residence had been used as summer palace grounds in the past but had fallen out of favor with his father's reign. Now, spruced up after its abandonment, it was quite tranquil and easy to guard, given that it had been built for royal protection.

Despite the peace, the Strawhats were far from idle. Chopper worked closely with rebel medical forces to assess their supplies and their skills. Robin took over the organization of the rebel military forces against the Wano shogunate and served as the point-of-contact for the Pirate faction of the Mink-Ninja-Pirate Alliance. Zoro was of course the first-mate and therefore the leader of the Strawhats with Luffy out of the picture, but he deferred to Robin on most decisions. With the exception of determining when to fight and when to retreat, Zoro was more than happy to work collaboratively with her.

Thus, it was Robin's job to pay close attention to the World News and what she could manage of the Underworld. Spade had helped her set up a novice Intel account so she could access the most basic Underworld channels. The information was limited, and she did not hear anything relating to persons of interest: Luffy, the Heart Pirates, or the Whitebeards. The World News focus on the upcoming Reverie was eerily bland and seemed purposefully detracting from the Dressrosa incident. Lack of movement from both the Marines and Kaidou rubbed Robin the wrong way. Hidden in Wano, it was hard to do anything except for speculation.

For all of Robin's conjectures, though, nothing quite prepared her for the morning news several weeks after their arrival in the samurai country. She sat down for her breakfast of eggs sunny-side up with a side of grilled potatoes and her customary coffee. Zoro, who had likely been up for hours now, sat down across from her, freshly showered after his morning workout. His breakfast was similar, but the Wano cooks knew to give him a much more sizable portion.

"Good morning, Zoro."

"Mornin'," he said.

"How was your workout?"

"Fine. Shoulda joined."

"You wake up much too early."

"Haki is easiest to manipulate early in the morning," he said as he shoveled potatoes into his mouth. "It'd help you too."

"Mm, I'm fine with the level of improvement I've had so far," said Robin pleasantly.

Zoro, always the perfectionist, rolled his eyes, but Robin only smiled. It was true—she'd recently been able to equip a giant clone hand with Armament Haki. The force of a punch had been enough to stop Zoro in his tracks, which was very impressive. It still required a bit of finesse and was not successful one hundred percent of the time, but being able to stop Zoro, who lifted weights the size of entire ships, was no small feat.

"Could always be better," Zoro said gruffly.

"I'll try one of these days," Robin conceded.

The news gull swooped in and landed on the sill of their open window. Robin paid the delivery fee and unraveled the paper, giving the front page a cursory glance before abruptly spitting out her coffee.

"Holy shit."

Zoro looked at her, alarmed. Robin almost never cursed.

"What is it?"

Robin didn't answer as she read the headline.

 _CHAOS AND EXPLOSIONS AT PUNK HAZARD: Whitebeards, Kaidou, and Marines Clash Over Escaped Convict Donquixote Doflamingo and Ex-Admiral Aokiji_.

 _In a series of unpredictable and unprecedented events, a massive battle took place last night at Punk Hazard, a Logless Island known for the historic death match between Kuzan Aokiji and Sakazuki Akainu and more recently for housing Caesar Clown and his laboratory for child experimentation. At approximately one o'clock this morning, Marine forces, led by Fleet Admiral Sakazuki, clashed with resurfaced Whitebeard Pirates and the Yonkou Kaidou in an attempt to capture Donquixote Doflamingo and ex-Admiral Aokiji. Donquixote Doflamingo, formerly a Shichibukai, was imprisoned last month in Impel Down after Monkey D. Luffy and Trafalgar Law defeated him in the Dressrosa Incident. News of Donquixote's escape from Impel Down had not been publicized. Marine officials were not available for comment._

 _Unconfirmed reports state that Marines have captured several high profile pirates from both Kaidou and Whitebeard forces, but it appears that Captains Kaidou and Marco the Phoenix were not apprehended. Doflamingo and Aokiji have also both escaped. As we await further updates, please be aware of the escaped convicts and contact Marine HQ with any sightings or information._

"Robin?" prompted Zoro.

She handed over the paper, printed full of bounty posters. As Zoro's expression gradually darkened with each passing word, Robin retrieved her Den-Den Mushi and tuned into the first Underworld Channel she could find.

"Results from the Battle at Punk Hazard remain unclear," a garbled voice intoned. "We have been able to confirm that most major players remain alive and free. Fleet Admiral Sakazuki and Admiral Fujitora lost approximately half of the Marine forces, but have captured Whitebeard Commanders Izou and Haruta, one of Kaidou's Disasters, and Supernova Scratchman Apoo and X Drake. We will continue to update accordingly, but news circulation has been slow due to lack of activity from Hurricane. There is speculation that Hurricane is Ava Skye Spade, who seemingly orchestrated the battle, but whose whereabouts remain unclear."

"What the shit."

"What did they _do_?!" Robin said, completely thrown. "How did this happen?! This is on the level of Marineford— _how_ did we not hear about this until after it'd happened?"

"You haven't heard from Spade or Law in a while, right?"

She shook her head. "No, it'd been weeks, but the last time I spoke with them, they said they were heading out to Wano."

Zoro pursed his lips. "Something drastic must've happened. Doesn't seem like something Spade woulda just kept us in the dark about."

"Spade or Law," agreed Robin. She was typically so calm and composed about these events, but she could not help but be anxious—Spade was a friend, and so was Law. Their alliance against Kaidou was built on the expectation of the Whitebeards' arrival, but with no contact from Luffy and questionable damage done to Whitebeard forces, Robin could not predict what Kaidou's next course of action was.

"What do we do, Robin?" asked Zoro seriously.

"I…"

She didn't _know_. There was so much information missing, and as the Den-Den Mushi continued to blare its repetitive message, she realized that news outlets—Underworld or not—didn't know much either. Hurricane's identity had been compromised and remained unknown.

"I'm going to try and call Law with the Blocker Mushi," said Robin, determined. "From what it sounds like, he's still alive and likely free. Marines would've announced if they'd caught the man behind the Dressrosa Incident."

"Sure," nodded Zoro. "Spade could be fine, too."

"She's never left a number."

"Start with Law then. Try to contact Nami, too." Zoro stood up and wolfed down a piece of toast. "I'm gonna find Franky and talk about reinforcing our outposts. It's possible that the Whitebeards are gonna try and sail to Wano still—we need to keep an eye out."

"That's a good thought. And if Kaidou is on their tail…"

Zoro's brow furrowed. "We're just gonna have to fight. With or without Luffy."

"The worst situation," murmured Robin.

"The worst," agreed Zoro.

He left the room, and Robin took a deep breath. Things moved too quickly in the New World for her liking. With what felt like very little warning, the storm had arrived.

* * *

Kid woke up to the sounds of men shouting orders to draw the sails to take advantage of a sudden wind. He buried his head in his pillow, still exhausted beyond belief. He was surprised he'd woken up at all; it felt like years since he'd had a moment to fully rest, and on a bed no less. The Moby Dick was an impressively large ship, and most of the Whitebeard commanders had their own vessels, leaving many rooms available for the non-Whitebeards that Marco decided to house. Kid was grateful for the extensive real estate on the giant craft that granted him and Killer the luxury of sharing a private bedroom, though he could not help but feel that the gesture was a loaded one. What exactly Marco the Phoenix wanted from him remained unclear, and Kid knew better than to assume that the Phoenix was as casual as his appearance made him out to be.

Still, Kid knew that he was lucky to be alive, and it was thanks to Marco that he was. He truthfully was unsure how the chaos at Punk Hazard had resolved—he only knew that they were fighting a losing battle against Kaidou, but the blind Admiral had been enough of a force to distract Kaidou himself while Kid and Bonney fended off Kaidou's Disasters. The Marines had been preoccupied with Aokiji and the Whitebeards, but after Kaidou took out half of the Fleet Admiral's ship, the Marines turned their attention fully to the Beasts Pirates. Law found Kid moments later, teleporting them to the Moby Dick as Marco ordered the Whitebeards to retreat. A fair number of Whitebeards were wounded and several had been captured. When the Moby Dick sailed away, Punk Hazard was ablaze with cannon fire, magma, and an ominous smoke that crept from Caesar's abandoned laboratory, turning all it touched to stone.

So yes, Kid knew he was lucky to be alive. It did appear that Marco had taken the Supernovas prisoner, but to Kid's surprise, the Phoenix fed his prisoners and provided them with adequate lodging. Marco's only command for the Supernovas was to count their casualties and rest for the night. Whitebeards outnumbered the Supernovas thirty-to-one, and all parties involved knew that it would be suicide for Kid to put up a fight. In the immediate aftermath of a world-ending battle, Kid knew better than to challenge his escape route.

"Kid," said Killer.

"What," groaned Kid, his head splitting with the effort it cost to talk.

"Get up," said his first-mate. He'd already dressed and clipped his helmet on. "Don't let your guard down just because you think we're safe."

"I know that," snapped Kid, sitting up and ignoring the scream of his muscles as he did. "But what the fuck are we gonna do? We're in the middle of the ocean on the fuckin' Moby Dick surrounded by Whitebeards—where d'you think we're gonna run?"

"At the least, we need to find out why Marco the Phoenix wants us here," said Killer curtly.

"Because we fought Kaidou for him, that's why," said Kid.

"I doubt he's that generous."

"Yeah, well somethin' tells me it's pointless for us to do recon here when someone else is already snoopin' 'round," Kid snipped as he sensed a presence outside their door. He stood up and didn't bother putting on his jacket. Hair unruly and bare-chested, he walked over to the door and slammed it open.

Law stood outside the door, fresh from the shower and cleanly shaven. He'd changed his clothes to an unsoiled gray T-shirt with the Hearts Insignia and black pants, and for once he did not wear his spotted cap. It did not change the fact that he looked rather thin and wearier than normal, but not being covered in blood and grime was an improvement from how he'd looked before. Bonney had given Kid an abbreviated overview of what had happened to Law, but even the information she provided was hearsay. Kid found it hard to imagine Law being anyone's prisoner, even Doflamingo's. Despite the wounds Law sported, the casual haughtiness on his face confirmed that whatever had transpired during his captivity was not enough to break him.

That, or Law was just never going to let the damage externally show.

"What're ya doin'," grimaced Kid, "standin' out here like a creep?"

"It's well-past noon, Eustass. We need to discuss some matters."

"Like what," Kid said coolly.

Law wrinkled his nose as he surveyed him. "Did you even shower before you passed out like a fool? Go get cleaned up. We're meeting with Marco in an hour."

"Who the fuck's 'we?'"

"Miss Bonney and Hawkins."

"What the fuck for? We're not on the same team here."

Law shrugged. "I agree, but Marco sees the Supernovas as all the same small fry skittering aboard his ship. It does not help that Miss Bonney's crew is all the way in South Blue and both you and Hawkins had your crews obliterated."

Kid let out an angry hiss. He knew better than to think that he was safe in Whitebeard territory, but Marco did not feel like an enemy the way Kaidou did. One good night's rest was enough for Kid's survival instinct to tune down a bit, and unfortunately the decreased instinctual overdrive was replaced by material he'd been suppressing. He did not want to be reminded by Trafalgar Law of all people that his crew was gone.

Law seemed to understand. In a rare moment of sentiment, he said, "I am sorry about your crew, Eustass."

"I don't need your damn pity," snarled Kid.

"It wasn't pity," said Law shortly. "They were loyal men. I am sorry for their loss, not yours.

If you feel like dying, then by all means, continue wallowing in your sorrow. If, on the other hand, you decide not to waste your men's sacrifice, we should be on the same page. You and Hawkins are by far the most expendable to Marco. You will be more useful if we are in alliance."

Kid bristled. "I'm not your fuckin' lackey, Trafalgar. You can't control me."

Law let out a hollow laugh. "My dear Eustass, do you not understand? None of us are in control here. I am merely trying to salvage what I can of our situation."

It irked Kid that despite Law being grouped with the Supernovas, the Surgeon of Death always seemed two steps ahead. Bonney's long-time role as a Hurricane contact clarified her worth to the Whitebeards, especially now that everyone knew who Ava Skye Spade truly was, but from what Kid knew, Law had met the Whitebeards barely months ago. The fact that Law was assured of his worth to Marco made his attitude all the more frustrating.

"And why the fuck do you need me?" growled Kid.

Law blinked, his long lashes fluttering lazily. "I don't. I am being generous. You should take whatever protection I can offer."

"We don't need your protection, Trafalgar," hissed Killer.

"On the contrary," said the surgeon dryly, "you do. If Marco believes we are in alliance, he will let us move as a unit. If I declare that we are enemies, he has absolutely no use for you. You will not swear fealty to him, and even if you did, I doubt he'd trust you. You'd be walking the gangplank come morning. I am trying to help you."

"Why?" demanded Kid.

Law's eyes flickered. "It's a favor. I expect you to pay it back in the future." The surgeon turned to leave. "We're amidst legends now, Eustass. Should you want to remain included in these tales, you'd best understand your options for survival."

Law left, his gait slow and careful. Kid's eyes narrowed at the sight—Law's stride was typically smooth and confident. He was injured.

Killer let out an angry noise.

"He's the same as always," his first-mate said through gritted teeth. "Always plannin' something. It's been a complete shitshow and he's already tryna become ringleader of the Supernovas."

"Let 'im," said Kid coolly. "We'll let 'im think we're followin' along. Just gotta wait for the right moment to remind Trafalgar Law who's gonna be the real Pirate King."

* * *

He could hear them. The whispers, hovering rumors, the lingering glances on his bandaged wrists and careful stride. Speculations ran wild among the Supernovas and the Whitebeards of what exactly Law had undergone at Doflamingo's behest. He was not inclined to share any colorful information, but Law's determined silence seemed to fuel the flames. He could only hope that like any raging fire, without kindling, it would wither into nothing.

Pain was something Law could hide for the most part, but starvation and fatigue were less simple to conceal. Weeks of torture and subsequent overexertion under the influence of Indigo Rings settled a leaden weight into his bones that Law knew would take much time to disappear. He did not want to think about how much of his life force the reckless use of his Devil's Fruit had caused.

Yet, Law was surrounded by possible enemies and was in no position to show his weakness. Though he was fully aware that the best course of action would be to rest, reset, and confront whatever trauma he'd undergone, Law simply did not have the luxury or desire to do so. He knew Marco was less than pleased with him, and Spade's abduction threw a wrench into already feeble plans. The Whitebeards had emerged from the Battle of Punk Hazard decently unscathed in terms of sheer number of casualties and in comparison to the other parties involved, but Marco would not let his commanders remain Marine prisoners, nor would he let Spade go without a fight.

Marco was the kind of man who was so strong he could afford to wear his heart on his sleeves. Ironically, for all the hearts inked into his skin, Law could not say the same thing. He was thankful that, with the exception of Uni, Law's crew was largely untouched, having been protected by Namur during the battle. Still, it did not change that for a brief moment in time, Law had held Doflamingo's life in the palm of his hands, had exchanged it for a woman whose worth to him Law still could not explain, only to lose both in the process. It was clear which wound smarted more—Law had made his choice, being willing to exchange Spade for Doflamingo. It was payback for Spade's generosity, but perhaps it was less impersonal than that.

Like everything else, Law suppressed. He could not dwell on the raw, gaping ache that seized his chest whenever his mind wandered and he imagined what atrocities Spade might be undergoing, or when he calculated the low likelihood of ever seeing her alive again.

It was difficult to stomach the knowledge that they'd left things so unfinished between the two of them, and that Spade's last words to him had been a desperate plea for another man's life.

Said man sat across from Law now, as the rest of the Supernovas filed out of the captain's lounge of the Moby Dick. Like everything the Whitebeards did, the Moby Dick was a massive and impressive ship with an unnecessary amount of space. Law preferred efficiency to luxury, and the wide, open spaces of the gilded vessel bothered him. It was a ship built for a giant of a man like Edward Newgate, but sitting in Whitebeard's old throne, Marco seemed at home.

"Thanks for staying behind," said Marco as the door shut behind Eustass. "I know you're tired."

Law ignored Marco's probe regarding his health.

"It's not like I have much of a choice."

Marco had requested a meeting between his most trusted commanders and the Supernovas to determine what the best next course of action was. In a very one-sided presentation of events, the Whitebeards had announced that the Moby Dick was currently sailing to Wano. With Kaidou's forces so brutalized by the Marines, Marco intended to quickly overthrow the Wano shogunate and claim the Samurai Country as Whitebeard territory. It was unlikely for Kaidou to retaliate, and defending an occupied land was typically easier than attempting to seize one.

The plan was a good one; given its swift succession to the Battle of Marineford, Kaidou would have difficulty anticipating a surprise attack. Unfortunately, it left the fate of the Whitebeard prisoners up in airs. While Spade had made it clear on multiple occasions that Marco's safety was her priority, the Phoenix had an entire army to handle. One prisoner, no matter how personally tied they were, was not enough for Marco to change course. Instead, the Whitebeards assembled a team to break into Impel Down to retrieve Commanders Haruta and Izou.

That left the Supernovas with the task of retrieving Skye Spade.

"Don't be like that, Law," said Marco with a languor that was not entirely attributable to the Phoenix's natural disposition—he'd likely been awake for over forty-eight hours now. "I haven't forced you to do anything."

"Threats don't need to be voiced aloud to be felt," Law returned.

"I just don't need another problem," he answered. "I've got enough shit to deal with—I don't need to be second-guessin' your intentions or any of your Supernova friends. If I have a problem with any of you, I'll just kill you. _That's_ a threat. Which means if you have a problem with what I asked of you, you should clear the fuck out."

"I don't have a problem," said Law coolly. "Even if you didn't ask this of me, I would save Miss Spade. I know my obligations."

"Really?" said Marco loftily. "'Cause for a second there, I didn't think you'd trade for her."

Law's eyes flickered. "I did in the end, didn't I?"

"Only 'cause you knew I'd kill you if you didn't."

Fury burned through Law's skin, but he kept his voice tempered. "Believe what you want to believe. As you said yourself, if you don't trust me, just kill me. Or at least, you can try your best."

Marco's accusation stung, reeking of an inherent distrust that reminded Law of Spade. It always felt like no matter what Law did, Spade found a reason to challenge his intentions.

Marco studied him closely, but relaxed. "I believe you. But mainly because Spade believed you, no matter all the shit she said 'bout you."

Marco reached across the desk and picked up the tiny, angry SOS Mushi that Spade had forced into Law's palm before she'd taken Marco's place during the battle. It was the first time Law had ever seen an SOS Mushi—Law had never felt the need for one, especially when he had Vivre cards for most of his crew.

"Does she have the other half?" Law asked.

"I'm not sure. I used the one we shared when you got captured." Marco examined the Mushi carefully. "My guess is this is the pair she and Aokiji shared."

Marco had asked everyone to leave his quarters, with only Law and him remaining. Discussions of Aokiji had been heated and angry; regardless of where the commanders stood about Spade, the movement to save her from Aokiji had been unanimous. Marco had been convincingly furious at Aokiji, though now that he and Law were alone, he showed that it was for somewhat different reasons.

"How long has Aokiji been an ally?" said Law.

"Ally's a bit rich, considering what that man has done," said Marco, tone abnormally cold. "Spade's always trusted him, but by my request, she's never given him Whitebeard information. I know he's hidin' shit too. But Spade usually never hides stuff from me." Marco let out a breath, looking elsewhere. Law often wondered exactly how old Marco was, considering that bounty pictures from decades ago had him looking remarkably similar to current day. Perhaps it was a property of his Devil's Fruit, causing his body to heal all aging cells.

Now, though, Marco actually aged, tired, and if Law looked closely, hurt. Law would've felt bad for him, if he weren't feeling so shitty himself.

"They planned this," Marco said quietly. "She wouldn't have given you this if they hadn't talked about it."

"You think freezing her was an act?" said Law, slightly disbelieving.

"I dunno. But I don't believe he won't hurt her, no matter what she says 'bout him," Marco replied. "You need to find her—the sooner, the better."

"I will," Law said. "I just need to think of where to start."

Marco nodded understandingly. "Spade not having a Vivre card is pretty shitty right now."

"You can never plan your circumstances," said Law wisely. "I will have to think about it."

"Yeah, that's fine, I'm not tellin' ya to sail out now in circles without a plan," assured Marco. "We'll be in Wano in a couplo days. Regroup and leave from there."

"With the Supernovas," said Law wryly.

Marco shrugged. "It's their choice. If they wanna help, they can. They owe me. If not, well…I'll collect my debts at another time. You, on the other hand…hope you're doin' this not just because you owe me."

"I'm not," said Law curtly, standing up to leave. "Despite what everyone including Spade herself seems to think, I care about her."

The barest hint of a smile curled at Marco's lips.

"Don't hurt to say it aloud once in a while."

"I don't have that kind of luxury."

Marco smiled understandingly. "No one does."

He waved Law out just as a gull landed in the windowsill with the afternoon paper. Law emerged out onto the front deck and headed toward his assigned quarters, a smaller room than the one Kid and Killer shared but at least he was by himself. Law was exhausted but jittery at once, his mind picking at scraps of information in an attempt to bottle them into a cohesive plan. It was a bad time for his brain to be in overdrive, especially when all Law wanted to do was to drink to a stupor.

He approached his quarters, unsurprised to find Kid sitting outside his door, waiting for him. What was more of a shock was that Killer was nowhere to be seen; the Kid first-mate tended to follow his captain with the determination of a parent taming his attention-deficient child.

"What do you want, Eustass?" said Law uninvitingly.

Kid snorted. "What, we ain't gonna talk about this? Marco the Phoenix is givin' us orders like he's some overlord captain over us, and you're just gonna take it?"

"I'm not following his orders," said Law thinly. "His plans merely coincide with my own—I intend to retrieve Skye Spade regardless. Marco made it clear that your involvement is entirely voluntary. If you don't want to help, then you can sail off."

Kid made a tch-ing sound, displeased with his situation, but Law was in no mood to coddle Kid's feelings.

"If there's anything else, we can talk later," said Law. "I need to be alone."

Kid arched his eyebrows. "Oh? Not gonna invite me inside?"

"What in the world for, Eustass?" said Law dangerously.

Kid barked a laugh as he stood up to his full height. Law never did enjoy the sensation of needing to look up at him, but it was clear Kid felt the opposite. He leaned down now, breath tickling Law's ear.

"I know that look," Kid whispered. "You're in the mood for a fuck."

Kid abruptly slapped Law's ass. Instantly, Law grabbed him by the neck and shoved him against the door, Room created and fingers winding around Kid's windpipe.

"You are fucking with the wrong man right now," said Law lethally. "If you think I'm going to let you fuck me, I will rip out your trachea right now."

Kid had always been an aggressive lover, territorial and dominating. Battles in the bedroom were frequently fought and evenly won, but after Doflamingo, Law was nowhere near being mentally capable of dealing with sex at the moment, especially if Kid wanted to top.

"Calm down," said Kid cheekily. "You're all in your head right now. I just wanna fuck, don't care who fucks whom."

Law blinked, surprised for more reasons than one.

"Did you just say 'whom?'"

Kid grinned. "See, I listen to your boring-ass rich people grammar lectures."

Law gave a scoff that bordered a laugh, a strange relief overcoming him. He reached down for the doorknob, then shoved Kid into his room. He slammed the door closed and dragged Kid to his bed, where he pushed him down forcefully. Kid let himself fall back on the mattress, his vivid red hair splaying over the pillows as he watched Law undress.

"I'm feeling mean, Eustass," said Law, climbing over Kid's body with feline grace. "Are you sure you can handle it?"

Kid grabbed Law's neck and brought him down for a kiss, open and earnest. Law returned the action messily, tongue fighting Kid's, while his hands moved to strip Kid of his clothes. He found Kid's cock already hard and throbbing, and as Law stroked it, Kid let out a sound uncharacteristically wanting for a man of his size. Law found himself smirking against Kid's lips.

He truly was feeling mean.

* * *

Spade woke up abruptly, gasping for air as the sensation of cold water slapping her face registered. She blinked, absorbing her surroundings. She was in a tub, her bones steeped in a stinging cold steeped despite her being immersed in lukewarm water. Her clothes clung to her skin in that uncomfortable suffocating way, and her body throbbed with the slightest movement, but she forced herself to sit up. Her head pounded, and she blinked the black spots that clouded her vision out of her eyes. This was familiar—the clean steel tiles, the luxurious bathtub of the Captain's private bathroom in the Polar Tang. She remembered the last time she'd been here; Law had taken her right over the edge of the tub so roughly that her hips and knees had sported bruises for days.

"Awake finally?" said a voice that echoed through the bathroom.

Spade turned, the movement slowed by the tepid water she was lying in. Aokiji crouched to her left, startling her.

Memories began to assault her as her brain struggled to connect what she could last remember. She'd ordered Law to switch her and Marco, then she'd been in the middle of Akainu and Aokiji and had barely dodged one of Akainu's blows before she'd felt an unmistakably familiar cold overcome her—

Spade bolted up, struggling to put as much distance between her and Aokiji as possible. The attempt was sluggish, slowed by the bathwater and also her limbs reacting jerkily to her brain's commands, but Aokiji did not make a move to stop her as she sat against the furthest edge of the tub, breathing rapidly as she glared at him.

"You should remain in the water," he said, testing the water with an index finger. "I just defrosted you. Your core temperature is likely still hypothermic."

"You froze me," said Spade disbelievingly.

"I did." He turned on the hot water valve.

"What the fuck, Kuzan, we've never discussed _freezing_ me."

"It was an effective way to get you out of the situation and to force Law to give up Doflamingo without raising suspicions. Stay in the water, Skye," said Aokiji calmly. "You don't need to be alarmed. I won't hurt you."

"You stabbed Marco," she said, livid as this memory came back to her. "You seriously stabbed him, you tried to kill him. What the fuck, are you not on our side?!"

"I wasn't trying to kill him. I have always been on your side," he said, still the picture of casual. "That being said, I never said that I would not threaten your life or Marco's if it meant that I could accomplish a goal." He looked at her levelly. "Sit in the water, Skye. We need to talk about our next steps."

Spade hated that Aokiji still had this effect on her. She'd thought over the years that she'd begun to see him as an equal of sorts, but there were moments where she was reminded that Aokiji remained the major authority over her. Spade sunk bank into the water, now warmer with the inflowing heat, and glared up at him as best as she could.

"What happened?" she said edgily. "Is Marco okay?"

"Of course he is," replied Aokiji. "I wouldn't have stabbed him through if I thought he couldn't handle it. Though I noticed while we were fighting that he was having contractures of sorts."

The statement ended on an upturned pitch of inquiry, but Spade answered with a stony stare. Aokiji's lips quirked, but he did not persist.

"Everyone you care about is safe," said Aokiji. "It appears the Marines captured some Whitebeard and Beast commanders, but from what I saw, Marco took the Supernovas aboard the Moby Dick and left before Punk Hazard exploded."

Spade nodded in understanding. "Akainu punch the laboratory and release Caesar's poison gas?"

"I really wish you'd told me about these plans, Skye," he sighed. "Nearly half of the Marine forces were literally petrified."

"Fine by me. And Kaidou?"

"He escaped largely unharmed, though he lost a Disaster and a third of his lackeys."

"Not bad," she murmured. "We came out on top."

"We did not," said Aokiji sternly. "We lost much more than we needed to, especially since Blackbeard remains untouched by sheer omission."

"I thought Doflamingo would bring him," she admitted reluctantly.

"Thinking is not knowing, and you lost much more in this exchange. Skye, you gave up _Hurricane_ for a _man_ ," he said, and she winced at his tone. Aokiji was typically a fairly lenient teacher, knowing that Spade thrived best under the pressure she put on herself, but his disappointment always made Spade want to crawl into a hole and wither into nothing. His voice carried only displeasure and the barest edges of judgment now.

"It wasn't just for him," she said defensively.

"No, it was," the Pheasant said coolly. "You would've never had such a haphazard plan for a battle like that if you hadn't been forced into a corner—and that corner only existed because somehow, you needed Trafalgar Law."

" _I_ didn't need him," she snapped. "Marco told me to save him because Law had the Indigo Ring research Blackbeard wanted. Our goal was to prevent that from falling into Blackbeard's hands."

"So instead, you traded him all of the Indigo Rings you had?" said Aokiji acidly. "You gave up Hurricane at your _prime_ —you had the entire Underworld Intel Network in your hands and you revealed it for Trafalgar Law. I understand that you orchestrated the battle to try and make the most out of a shitty situation, but you gained little and would've lost all progress we'd made on Blackbeard if I did not retrieve Doflamingo, and even then I have to bring you as well to seal the deal. We are not prepared for this level of engagement in Blackbeard's ranks. You were foolish and rash, Skye."

Aokiji's frustration with her was obvious. In the brief moments of chaos during the battle, he had isolated both of them in the eye of an icy hurricane, allowing them several rare minutes of conversation. Amidst the occasional spear of ice or blasting tornado, Aokiji proposed the plan to recapture Doflamingo and bring him back to Blackbeard. To secure Blackbeard's trust, he also suggested taking Spade prisoner. Blackbeard was eternally cautious of Aokiji's relationship with Spade and the Marines—breaking into Impel Down had solidified the break between him and the Navy, and handing over Spade would be the final step to becoming one of Blackbeard's right-hand men.

It was a dangerous, frightening plan, one that sang of his last-ditch attempt to salvage a situation he viewed as a fiasco.

Spade said nothing. Aokiji's words stung and she felt a familiar sensation settle in her stomach—embarrassment, anxiety, a sinking weight of failure that she tried to swallow down and digest. She had been proud of the stage she'd set, despite its flaws. Kaidou had now lost two of his three Disasters, and a significant portion of Marine forces had been petrified. Both were weakened for future attacks, while Marco and Law remained safe. Surely all that accounted for something.

Aokiji seemed to guess her thoughts and sighed as he turned away from her and leaned his back against the tub.

"It'll go down in history books, that's for sure," he murmured. "But you lost sight of your target. Blackbeard was your goal first, Skye. The world needs the Marines for stability, and weakening them prior to dismantling the Yonkou is a bad idea. Besides…bringing Akainu was a low blow, Skye, especially when you hadn't given me warning."

"I figured you could take care of yourself," she muttered.

"You used me as bait." His tone was accusatory.

"And you just froze me," she retorted.

Aokiji chuckled. "I admit that it was ill-willed. It got me Doflamingo, though. Law was only willing to trade him for you if he thought I would seriously hurt you."

Spade snorted, and Aokiji looked amused.

"What?" he said. "It was sweet. Looks like Doflamingo was right after all, with you two being lovers. "

"Enough, you've rubbed it in," she said evenly.

"Have I now? Giving up Hurricane for Marco, I would've always understood, but Trafalgar Law? I suppose the exchange is equivalent, with what Doflamingo means to him. Still, the sex must be incredible for you two—"

"Okay, I get it!" she bellowed, cheeks burning despite being cold. "Stop, this has never been a topic open for discussion!"

Aokiji merely laughed and Spade sank deeper into the bathwater, tempted to drown herself.

"Any other time, Skye, I would not be so disapproving. But if you were going to properly commit yourself to the Hurricane role, then you knew better than to become so involved before your task was complete."

"I know," she muttered. "You froze me, that should be enough of a punishment."

"And you consented to being my prisoner," said Aokiji, "so I'll stop the lecture. Our next steps are up to you. Doflamingo is still unconscious and in Kairouseki. We are sailing to Lafitte's coordinates right now. There are several options." Aokiji pointed his index finger. "We alert the Whitebeards, converge on Lafitte, and take down a Titanic Ten, perhaps two, while revealing our alliance in exchange." He raised a second finger. "Or, we proceed with our original plan, and I bring you in as a prisoner. Lafitte will likely bring us to Blackbeard himself, and I will ask to take the Indigo Rings and Doflamingo to the factory Blackbeard has established and then destroy it. Meanwhile, we will tell the Whitebeards your coordinates, and they will launch a surprise attack on Blackbeard."

"You're omitting an obvious point here," she said through gritted teeth.

"I am aware." Aokiji leaned his head back against the edge of the tub. "You will likely be raped, tortured, or possibly killed as we wait for reinforcements."

Spade looked up at the ceiling. "Sounds easy when you put it so simply."

"I am not understating this risk, Skye. This is your sacrifice, and therefore your call."

She snorted derisively. "Doesn't sound that way when you so clearly support the second plan. Almost sounds like you're punishing me for fucking up as Hurricane—"

"You know I am not," he said sharply. "I am in full support of your decision regardless of which one you make. I will not force you to be a scapegoat, Skye. I am merely stating the facts."

Spade knew that Aokiji was telling the truth. From a purely objective perspective, Blackbeard had won the Battle of Punk Hazard because he had suffered no losses. Capitalizing on that momentum meant that under the right conditions, Aokiji could ensure that at the least, Blackbeard could be as wounded as the rest of them. Handing over Spade just as the world knew she was Hurricane tripled her worth; it would be years before they'd have such a clean shot at launching an ambush. Revealing Aokiji and Spade's partnership just for Lafitte or another Titanic Ten was simply too measly.

She knew what was the right choice.

"I don't want to," she whispered, staring up at the ceiling.

"All right."

Aokiji's voice was neutral, even, without any hint of disappointment. If anything, she thought he sounded relieved, and this warmed Spade, knowing that Aokiji didn't want any harm to come to her.

But Aokiji had raised her as a soldier, had taught her from a young age that she was trained to kill a god, and if Spade could not even sacrifice her own life to strike her own demons, then what exactly had Aokiji saved her for?

"I'll do it," she said softly.

"…I know," he said, resigned.

"If it gets to be too much," she said quietly, "I'll give you a signal."

"I will do my best to protect you, Skye."

Spade laughed, and it sounded hollow even to her own ears.

"Don't try too hard. Just like you said, you shouldn't lose sight of your target. If push comes to shove, just put me out of my misery."

Misery was all she'd known since Ace had died anyway. Maybe this was the only reason she'd survived after Ace, so her death could be used to avenge him. When she framed her future in such a way, death didn't sound so bad after all.

Whether by destiny or by careful planning, nothing mattered when all that was left were shambles in the end.


	20. Condition

**Chapter 20** : **Condition**

Wano was a pleasant enough country, with rolling verdant hills that overlooked the ocean. The weather was cool and more rainy than not, but Law preferred overcast skies and a gradual dropping temperature. It was closer to the climate of Flevance, though Law knew better than to voice the nostalgia for his childhood home aloud.

Nonetheless, the amicable weather was a small positive amidst the constant state of irritation Law found himself in. Everything grated his nerves, from the World News continuing to obstinately only report on the Reverie to the overwhelming lack of news about anything that was remotely useful. Despite capturing several prominent pirates, the Marines had suffered major casualties and were in no position to be flaunting the comparatively little victories they'd won. Unlike when they'd captured Portgas D. Ace, the Marines were now remarkably restrained in announcing execution dates, knowing that they would not be able to fend off another Battle at Marineford. As such, the flux of news had trickled into stagnancy; with Hurricane out of commission, the Intel Network of the Underworld had fallen into chaos. Any rumors Law heard could not be trusted, as nothing could be truly verified.

With the overbearing silence, Law was consistently on edge, nerves searing the moment anyone decided to cross him. He was normally quick to anger but easily in control of his temperament, but it seemed that the slightest annoyance now caused him to snap. His own crewmates learned to avoid him unless they had something of paramount importance to report, and even Ikkaku, who typically was fearless when it came to challenging Law, steered clear of him.

Law understood very well the reason why everything irked him, but had no intention of addressing a solution. Instead, he let his mental whirlpool of concerns and anxieties and fears and sleepless nights swirl and fester like a fluctuant, malodorous mass that threatened to explode at every given second.

Finally, it was Nico Robin who intervened.

"You need to stop," she said after dragging Law into her private quarters and sitting him down.

"Stop what," he said, feigning ignorance.

"You just made Chopper cry," she said, dark eyes livid. " _No one_ makes Chopper cry when I'm around."

"I wouldn't have had to make him cry if he did not constantly pester me—"

"He asked you _one_ question," said Robin coolly. "I know you generally find everyone in our crew annoying, but Chopper and you have never had any issues. Your attitude is becoming a problem. You need to do something about it."

"Do what," Law snapped. "There's nothing _to do_ , Miss Robin. I am merely exhausted and stressed."

"Then sleep," she countered. "And _actually_ sleep, not hate-fuck your new bedmate because everyone including you knows that that does nothing to alleviate your mood."

His and Eustass's arrangement was hardly a secret by the time the Moby Dick arrived at Wano. Eustass was loud-mouthed in all contexts, and it was only because both captains were so terrifying that no one except for some boisterous Whitebeard commanders bothered to make lewd comments. Marco was less than pleased with Law's choice in a bedmate ("I didn't save Eustass Kid just so you'd have someone to fuck while Spade's captured") but who was he to stop them? Law and Eustass had a history that all the Supernovas were aware of, and Marco understood it as a way for Law to keep Eustass in check.

"On the contrary, making Eustass submit to me does wonders for my mood," Law muttered.

"No, it doesn't. You need to take time off and process. You don't need to be glued to a Mushi—half the information in the Underworld right now is blatantly false, and I can keep you posted if there's anything important."

"It's fine," he said offhandedly.

Robin frowned. "Law—"

"I appreciate your concern, truly," he interrupted. "But my priority, as yours should be, is to retrieve Skye Spade safely. We can address my own well-being after she is rescued, as I assure you that my mood will improve dramatically once I know she is safe."

Robin's expression softened. "I understand."

It wasn't like Law had publically announced the nature of his and Spade's relationship, but Robin seemed to have guessed as much, especially with how fixated Law had been on obtaining information of Spade's whereabouts. She gave him no grief for the events of Punk Hazard despite Law's stupidity leading up to the battle, though she was one of the few.

There was a knock on the door.

"Trafalgar," said Bonney's irritated voice. Speak of the devil. "Are you done having your hissy fit?"

Robin opened the door, revealing Bonney with her hip cocked to one side and her arms crossed. "He wasn't having a hissy fit, Bonney."

"Coulda fooled me," said Bonney coolly.

Unlike Robin, after hearing everything, Bonney had been less than appeased with Law's feverish obsession of rescuing Spade, especially when she blamed him for Spade's situation in the first place. It had initially struck Law as slightly odd that Bonney felt so strongly about Spade when she had merely been a Hurricane informant, but the way Bonney looked when she was around Marco clarified that perhaps there was more to the relationship than he perceived.

Law opened his mouth to retort scathingly, but Robin spoke quickly to diffuse the tension.

"Do you need something, Bonney?"

"Marco wants a status update."

"On what?" said Law scathingly. "It's unchanged from hours ago. The Underworld is useless, the SOS Mushi hasn't rung, and Robin is still waiting to hear back from the Revolutionaries about Blackbeard's latest whereabouts."

"Just checking," said Bonney shortly. "Don't blame him for trying to stay on top of shit—he's got enough going on. So you can take your piss poor attitude and shove it up your sorry ass."

"Ah, yes, it is my fault, especially when the Phoenix can do no wrong in your eyes."

"You—"

"God, you are so loud," said Law dismissively. "Instead of spewing all the bullshit you do, go occupy your mouth with Marco's dick instead."

Bonney's eyes glittered menacingly. "Funny, could say the same 'bout you but I forgot, you prefer suckin' Doflamingo's cock instead, don't ya? It's the only fuckin' explanation why you'd give up the Whitebeards for 'im—"

"Bonney, that's _enough_ ," said Robin, glancing uneasily at Law.

"No, it's not," snapped Bonney. "I'm sick of this guy bein' such a pain in the ass and actin' like he's some poor victim and everyone treatin' him like one when Spade's the one who's missing! This is _your_ fucking fault, Law, so don't act like you're the only one who's hurt!"

"I'm not!" Law snapped. "I have no need for everyone treating me like I'm something delicate—"

"Then stop actin' like it!" hollered Bonney. "What're we still doin' here in Wano? We should've set out days ago!"

"To where? We have absolutely no information—if we choose the wrong direction, we will lose more than days! I hate twiddling my thumbs as much as you do, Miss Bonney, so believe me that if there was an action I could take instead of dawdling all this time, I would. But I do not have the luxury to make another false move, not with Spade's life on the line. So we will _stay put_ until we have more information, and I swear that I will get Spade back if it's the last thing I do on this earth." Law brought a hand up to his throbbing temples. "Until then, lay the fuck off."

He strode past her and out of Robin's room. He knew he was supposed to find Marco and see if the Phoenix had any updates, but Law did not feel motivated to do so. He was just so, so tired.

It had been a long time since he'd felt this way. He couldn't truly describe it other than as a hollow ache constantly nestled in his chest, a parasite whose tendrils gradually extended to encircle his heart and squeezed. How emptiness could be so painful was beyond his understanding, but Spade had always been the same way, a flitting presence that he had held briefly in his hands, only to realize that she was simply air.

He had not missed someone like this in what felt like centuries.

Law headed toward a post that sometimes served as a lookout point over the ocean. There were plenty of higher, larger lookouts, so Law imagined that this one would be unmanned, but as he stood overlooking the rails at the billowing waters, a presence entered the range of his Observation Haki.

"Captain?"

Law didn't even turn around.

"What do you want, Bepo?" he said, tone biting.

"Nothing." The polar bear sounded nervous, and it frustrated Law—he wasn't supposed to frighten his crewmen like this.

"Are you on sentry duty?" Law asked, softening his voice. "Sorry for disturbing your post."

"No, it's okay. Pen and Shachi are on a higher post anyway—I'm just here for backup in case they goof off, but I don't think they will."

"No, I don't think so either."

Encouraged by Law's tone, Bepo approached him and took the place next to him. Law felt the bear peer down at him anxiously in unspoken inquiry of his health. The captain did not want to belabor his own status, and instead deflected the topic before it even arose.

"How are the others?" said Law.

"They're good. We've gotten used to the Whitebeards and they think we're funny and reliable. We're making sure to train with them too."

Law nodded in approval. "I'm glad that you're still keeping busy. I apologize for my attitude and absence recently. I'm working on it."

"No one blames you, Captain."

"Maybe you should," said Law wryly. "Miss Bonney has the right idea."

Bepo frowned. "She doesn't have the right to treat you the way she does. We know you're working, Captain. We know you're stressed, too. We just wish…with everything that happened, maybe you could rely on us a bit more." Bepo scratched the back of his neck. "Especially because you gave yourself up to Doflamingo so we could escape. We haven't forgiven you for that, y'know. Maybe you should give us the opportunity to pay you back."

Law chuckled. "Bepo, I'm the captain. Your safety is my greatest concern. It's what I'm supposed to do."

"Yeah, I know. We're family. Family forgives each other. It's what we do. But you need to give us the chance to show you that."

Bepo turned away from the sight of crashing waters and instead lied down on the floor, his side pressed against the wall. For Bepo's giant size, it looked absurd.

"Bepo," Law said with a slight smile, "what are you doing?"

"Wanna nap?"

"What?"

"Been a while since we napped like this. Think you can deal with a break."

"No thanks, Bepo, I need to—"

"No offense, Captain, you don't have to do shit right now because there's nothing to do except wait. Take a nap."

Law sighed. "Did you just give me an order, Bepo?"

Bepo's eyes widened. "What? Oh, no! Sorry! That's not what I meant, Captain, I just meant—"

"It's fine," said Law with a small laugh. He sank down and sat against the cool wooden surface and leaned back, body engulfed in soft fur and warmth. His eyelids flitted shut immediately, and he stretched out his limbs. "Shit, this was a good idea, Bepo."

"I know," said Bepo, smug. "I'll keep an eye out, Captain. Sleep well."

Law smiled. The ache in his chest seemed to shrink just a little bit.

And for the first time in weeks, he slept.

* * *

Spade hated few in the world as much as she hated Marshall D. Teach. Even before Teach revealed his treachery, she had never been fond of him—crass, crude, and unrefined, Teach in many ways embodied all stereotypes about men that she hated. His overwhelming strength and status now did not stem from hard work and dedication, but instead was rooted in his ability to bide his time and strike at the least expected moments. No one had seen Thatch's murder coming, just as no one had seen Ace's defeat either. A graverobber for two Devil's Fruits, Teach was uniquely impressive in that despite his looks, he was a brilliant strategist.

Spade had been fooled too many times now to believe that Teach was as stupid as she wished for him to be. No, he was cautious and careful about utilizing his incredible power, and it was because she finally understood Teach's true nature that she consented to Aokiji's dangerous plan. She knew that the chances of her leaving this situation alive or in one piece mentally or physically were slim, but some opportunities were too rare to pass.

Nonetheless, it did not make the sight of Teach lording over her as she was shackled in Kairouseki any easier to accept. Spade glared up at him with unadulterated hatred, body trembling with the effort it took to crane her neck up.

"Now ain't this a surprise!" guffawed Teach. "It's been too long, Spade!"

Teach was unchanged from the brief moment she'd seen him at the Payback War. A gargantuan man in both height and width, Blackbeard had to kneel on the ground and lean down to be face-to-face with Spade. His beard, coarse and uncouth, scratched her skin as he grinned at her. Alcohol reeked from his breath, and Spade longed to knock out the few remaining teeth Teach did have.

"It's never long enough," she snarled.

"Skye Spade," Van Auger mused as he adjusted his monocle. "Or should we say, Hurricane?"

"That's just fuckin' great," Blackbeard cackled. "I told ya, didn't I, Lafitte? I'd guessed!"

"You had also guessed that Hurricane was Dragon," reminded Lafitte, amused. "You can't just list everyone and say you got it right in the end."

"I had a hunch," said Blackbeard defensively.

"What do you want to do with her?" asked Aokiji.

Blackbeard was delighted with the question, or likely, its many potential answers. "Ya really brought back everything we wanted and more, y'know. The Indigo Rings, Doflamingo…hey, how're you doing, Mingo? Not lookin' too good over there."

By the time Doflamingo had regained consciousness on the Polar Tang, Aokiji had taken off his Kairouseki and shackled Spade instead. Furious with everything, Doflamingo had been all too eager to be Spade's warden ("Give her to me, Aokiji, and I will make what I did to Law look like party tricks"). Aokiji managed to prevent any premature harm from coming to her with the excuse that he wanted her in one piece for Blackbeard. Now that the moment of truth had arrived, though, Spade braced herself for what was to come.

"I'm fine," said Doflamingo thinly, though Spade knew otherwise. Getting smashed by a submarine took time to recover from, regardless of how incredible the healing powers Doflamingo's Devil's Fruit and Tenryuubito heritage gave him.

"Looks like Trafalgar Law lives up to his reputation," snickered Lafitte. "Cunning and quite slippery. You should be proud, Doflamingo."

"None of what transpired was because of Law," snarled Doflamingo. "If anything, we've brought the more important instigator back with us—"

"We?" repeated Aokiji. "You were beaten by Law, Doflamingo. Don't take credit when you were incapacitated under a submarine the entire time; it's poor form."

"Ya did well, Aokiji," grinned Blackbeard. "Lafitte, get these Rings to Doc. I want 'im to start processin' 'em."

"How?" said Lafitte dryly. "We are unfortunately in the same predicament from before—Trafalgar Law's method of converting Indigo Ring PS into a long-acting analgesic remains a mystery to us. For all we know, he hasn't even succeeded."

"He has," said Doflamingo, convinced. "When we fought, he was manipulating Rooms in a way that should've been impossible given his state. He must've gotten his hands on a pain reliever that allowed him to fight uninhibited. It's the only explanation."

"That, or you suck more than you think," muttered Spade.

After Ace's death, Spade had learned to hold her tongue when it would cause her more trouble than good, but something about seeing Blackbeard always made her regress to that angry, rash child that never thought things through. She should've known better to mouth off in her situation, and she felt its ramifications immediately.

Doflamingo grabbed her by the neck and slammed her face into the ground. Pain exploded through her temples and her vision went black.

"Lay off," she heard Aokiji say, voice carefully casual. There was shuffling behind her, and Doflamingo released his grip.

Spade coughed, head screaming and vision blurry.

"Careful," sneered Doflamingo. "Be too careful with her and I'll start getting suspicious, Kuzan."

Aokiji rolled his eyes. "About what?"

"Don't pretend. Bringing in Hurricane so easily—seems too straightforward, don't you think?"

"You think I want to be here?" spat Spade, glaring at Blackbeard. "Get me out of these cuffs and I'll show you just how thrilled I am to see you, Teach."

"I don't trust it," said Doflamingo.

"Your opinion is truly irrelevant to me, Doflamingo," said Aokiji indolently. "Spade is known not to have a Vivre card as well. She cannot be followed here. If you have any qualms, I'll search her and see if she has any tracking devices."

"Yeah," agreed Blackbeard. "Search her."

"Allow me to do the honors," said Doflamingo, hand curling around her neck. "I'll search her _thoroughly_." He lifted her by the chin, and Spade saw her reflection in his glasses. She repressed a shudder as his grip wrapped around her throat. "You still need Law's method to convert the Indigo Rings, right? Just give me Skye Spade, and I'll get it for you."

"How can you guarantee that?" said Van Auger.

Doflamingo smirked, and Spade did her best not to express the fear she felt very acutely.

"I know my student well. Law should've known better than to love so easily, let alone love a woman as dangerous as Skye Spade. Give me forty-eight hours." His grip tightened suddenly and Spade choked, gasping. "I will make a mess of you, Skye Spade. With you, I will teach Law the lessons that never learned—one more friend is one more weakness, and the weak do not get to choose how they die."

* * *

Law wasn't the only person in Wano who was constantly on edge, and it irritated Bonney even more that he behaved as such. She knew that she was supposed to feel sort of bad for Law, especially since Doflamingo had done a number on him, but she hated that Law acted as if he was the only one who was deathly worried about Spade.

 _Please_ , she thought angrily. Law barely knew Spade, and no matter what their relationship was (sleeping together meant nothing when it came to Law, as evidenced by his current arrangement with Eustass Kid), Bonney doubted that he could be more worried than her or Marco. Apparently, no one else thought that, including Marco, which annoyed Bonney all the more because Marco had made Law the de facto leader of the "Save Spade" posse, a responsibility that Bonney adamantly believed Law didn't deserve.

"He's right though," said Nico Robin when Bonney voiced her disapproval for Law's plan to _do nothing_. "You have no idea where to start sailing toward."

They were in a library, where Robin had collected a wide range of books detailing the long history of attempts to create Artificial Zoan Fruits. Marco had tasked the historian with identifying additional weaknesses beyond the traditional sea stone Achilles heel that Devil Fruit users had, as information would be helpful in battles against both Kaidou and Blackbeard. Bonney was helping as best as she could, but she was too hungry and simultaneously angry to really concentrate on the texts in front of her.

"We have some guesses," argued Bonney. "I've been tracking Blackbeard for years, and I know he goes near South Blue a lot!"

"For the Indigo Rings," said Robin, "which he no longer needs. His last appearance was at Baltigo, which no one knows how to navigate to, and I haven't been able to contact the Revolutionaries since then."

"Maybe 'cause they're all dead," said Bonney dully.

Robin shook her head. "I don't believe so. We would've heard about Dragon's demise. I've left several messages on Sabo's personal Mushi. Perhaps we can hope for some communication then."

"I hate not havin' a plan."

"Believe me, Bonney, we all do." Robin looked at her pointedly. "Especially Law."

"Don't lecture me," groaned Bonney. "Y'all treat him like he's made of glass—someone needs to tell him to get his shit together. Marco's the most worried, y'know."

"I am aware," said Robin lightly, "but I think you underestimate the degree of affection Law has for Spade."

Bonney snorted. "Yeah, he's real convincing when he's shackin' up with Kid."

"He's clearly deflecting," said Robin wisely. "If we're going to be on the same mission, Bonney, you two should talk things through. It'll be better for teamwork."

"I don't—"

"Marco told me to tell you that," smiled Robin.

She glared at Robin. "Oh really?"

"Yes, really. Speaking of," the historian stood up and pocketed the White Blocker Mushi and her personal Interceptor Den-Den Mushi she kept with her at all times, "he asked to see me. Go find Law, Bonney."

Bonney sighed angrily but filed out of the room after Robin. A quick cast of Observation Haki placed Law in his quarters, thankfully alone. Reluctantly, she admitted that Robin had a point—the constant sniping would hinder any collaboration they hoped to have. She therefore decided to be the bigger person and headed over to Law's after stealing a jar of Zoro's prized sake as a peace offering.

Law answered on the third knock, his face blank when Bonney raised the jug of alcohol in front of him.

"Roof," she said curtly.

Law nodded and in an instant, both of them were transported up to the slanted wooden roof of the main palace hall. Dusk had fallen, and the cool darkness of night began to creep through the sky. It was an abnormally clear night, with fresh breezes and twinkling stars shining with a full moon. The ocean pulled and pushed, its waves crashing in a soothing manner.

Bonney caught her footing on the shingles and promptly sat down to prevent sliding down and off the roof. Gingerly beside her, Law did the same.

Bonney popped off the cork of the jar. "You still hurting?"

Law looked wary of the inquiry. "I'm fine."

"No, you're really fuckin' not. You're scared to put pressure on your wrists—it's obvious something's still wrong." She drank deeply, pleased to find that she'd picked an excellent sake from Zoro's stash. Swallowing down the smooth burn, she handed the jar over to Law, who took it wordlessly. "Didya get Chopper or the Whitebeard doc to take a look?"

"I have no intention of broadcasting my health status," said Law thinly, "especially when I'm the best doctor here."

"For fuck's sake, Law, no one here is gonna hurt you!"

"It must be nice to have that kind of trust in people, Miss Bonney, but I do not possess the same blinding confidence in Marco that you do."

"You're a real piece of shit," snapped Bonney.

"I'm aware," said Law, amused as he drank slowly. "Luckily for you, I do not think Marco has it in him to hurt you. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for me."

"Marco made Spade give up her Hurricane role for you," said Bonney angrily. "How can you seriously think that he'd hurt you? He's not that kind of person."

"He likely isn't," conceded Law, "but I still cannot afford vulnerability in this situation."

"See, this is the shit that makes me think you don't actually care about Spade," she said. "You know what kinda relationship they have—if you really felt something for Spade, how can you not trust her?"

Law laughed hollowly. "Miss Bonney, we have such different upbringings. Love does not imply trust—if anything, it represents the furthest thing from trust. Love is a vulnerability, affection is a weakness, and even if I cannot control an emotion, I can control the foolishness of trust. Whatever I may feel for Miss Spade, it does not mean I believe she will not harm me for a greater cause."

Bonney stared at him. She'd always known that Law was a little fucked up in the head, and though she didn't know the history of Law's upbringing, it was clear that she'd underestimated exactly the lessons Law had learned as a child.

"How d'you do it?"

Law peered at her. "What?"

"How're you as fucked up as you are and still have a crew that loves you that much?"

Law smiled wryly. "I don't know, Miss Bonney. It's one of the my life's greatest mysteries."

Bonney shook her head. "No, I just mean…how can you still believe that? Ain't it lonely in that fucked up head space of yours where you think something as great as love is that toxic?"

"Perhaps you're just fortunate that the loves you've experienced in your life have never been exploited or warped." Law handed back the sake and reached into his pocket for a cigarette. "I suppose your chances of a healthy kind of love are fairly good with a man like Marco, though."

Bonney flared, but Law raised a hand in defense.

"I do not mean it derisively," he said as he lit a cigarette. "Marco is the kind of person who rewards loyalty with loyalty. Exactly how this collaboration between you and the Whitebeards came to be escapes me, but your heart is in good hands."

"Don't make me seem that stupid," snapped Bonney. "I admire and respect Marco, I always have. Spade and I are good friends, and I owe the Whitebeards a whole lot. I'm fightin' with them because we have a common cause, not because I'm pinin' away for Marco."

"Ah, I must've misinterpreted then. But really, when did you and Spade become such good friends?"

"You first," she bristled. "You met her for the first time at Dressrosa, right? Now all of a sudden, you're worth givin' up Hurricane for?"

Law blew out a ring of smoke. "I am not the only one who is fucked up in the head. I cannot explain all of Spade's emotions and intentions."

"Stop being so fucking vague. What is it? Love?"

The last word was scathing, but much to Bonney's surprise, Law shrugged.

"Maybe," he said simply.

"What the fuck—for real?"

"That word has been exchanged," he said cryptically. "Of course, that was before she found out I betrayed her trust, so I'm not entirely sure where we stand now. But yes, that word has come up." Law looked at her, gray eyes piercing. "Your turn, Miss Bonney. Do you love Marco?"

"Admire and respect," she spat. "I've always been indebted to the Whitebeards—Whitebeard saved our island when I was a kid. I remember seein' Marco swoop in and save my mom and me when corrupt Marines tried to execute everyone who couldn't pay their new tax. My entire family owes their lives to Whitebeard and his crew."

"You met Marco that long ago?"

"Yeah. Don't think he remembers that though. He thinks the first time we met was when he and Spade raided the Shabondy Human Auction House."

Law's eyes flickered. "What were you doing there?"

An acid bubbled in Bonney's stomach, and because she made terrible decisions, she decided to swallow it down with more alcohol.

There was a long silence before she could respond.

"I was bein' sold," she said, voice bitter. "Blackbeard captured my crew right when we entered the New World and handed me over to the Marines. I was supposed to be sent to Impel Down, but the Vice Admiral in charge o' me thought they could make money off me."

Law was quiet, and Bonney was thankful he did not express any pity. Perhaps for the same reason that she had refused the same extension of pity to him.

"You ain't the only one who knows what it's like to be a prisoner, y'know. All of us now. Kid and Hawkins, too." She took another swig. "Sucks like shit."

"That it does," he murmured. His cigarette glowed in the dark. "I do not mean to be belligerent, Miss Bonney. You and I have never been this argumentative. I merely do not appreciate the constant challenge to my intentions. I may not trust Marco fully, or even Spade." Law took a deep breath of his cigarette and let it out slowly. "But it does not mean I do not care."

A heavy weight sank into Bonney's stomach, and she knew it was guilt. Before she could reply, though, Robin's head emerged from the red roof tiles.

"Holy shit!" shouted Bonney, jumping three feet in the air.

Law did not seem perturbed. "Something wrong, Miss Robin?"

"Marco's quarters," Robin said sharply. " _Now_."

Law teleported both of them immediately to Marco's room, a large bedroom with luxurious decorations of delicately wrought gold and fine ink paintings, indicating that it was meant for the king. It was adjacent to the library that Robin spent much of her time in, making communication between the two of them rather frequent. It appeared that Robin had been in the middle of a status report, as textbooks were sprawled all over Marco's desk, but planted in the center of the surface was a Den-Den Mushi with a snow leopard cap on.

Marco sat behind his desk and nodded in acknowledgement of their presence.

"They're here," he said coolly.

"Excellent," purred a voice Bonney didn't recognize, but beside her, Law stiffened. "How lovely to see that Law's alliance with the Whitebeards still holds. I was afraid you'd offed him by now."

"Believe me," said Marco lightly, "I've considered it."

"I can imagine. I'm sure you'd rather have Skye Spade safely by your side instead of the troublesome Trafalgar Law."

"What do you want, Doflamingo," said Law coldly.

"Ah, the man of the hour. How are you doing, Law?"

"After I dropped a submarine on you, do you really want to have small talk?" he answered.

"You're right, it is a waste of time. What I do want is related to that ridiculous fight, though. See, it is simply impossible that you could have bested me in any fight. Some laws of Nature are rooted in place, Law, as I'm sure you learned that your place is as my bitch and nothing more."

Bonney glanced at Law, but the Surgeon remained impassive.

"It therefore occurred to me that something extraordinary must have played a role in our fight. Blackbeard wants to know how to create Indigo Ring opioid, and I assured him that you have already completed this task and would be only happy to oblige this information. I hope I have not misinformed him, Law, as I assume you'll cooperate."

"Where's Spade?" said Marco icily.

"She's…here," was the answer. "I was about to say she's _fine_ , but that would be lying and I certainly don't want to begin our collaboration with a lie. See, I've just been frustrated with things and Skye Spade remains a major reason why I am so cross. As I'm sure you all know, my lovely Underworld is in an uproar, all because its queen has been indisposed but refuses to abdicate the throne. I'm working on it though."

"I want to talk about the terms of negotiation," said Law. "You do not lay another hand on Spade, and I will tell you—"

"Law, Law, Law," interrupted Doflamingo impatiently. "When will you _learn_? There are no terms of negotiation to be drawn when our hands are unequal. You see, as long as I have Skye Spade, both you and the Whitebeards are powerless. You will tell me everything I need to know, or I will _ruin_ Hurricane. And I promise I won't kill her—Blackbeard wants her alive—but he does not need her in one piece. I am more than happy to break her, I assure you. So, Law. Start talking."

Law opened his mouth, but Marco interrupted.

"No," said Marco. "We have no guarantee of anything. You will torture Spade regardless of what we do—why would we hand over information when the outcome wouldn't change?"

"Oh-ho," said Doflamingo gleefully. "Hear that, Skye Spade? Marco the Phoenix says _do nothing_ to help you!"

There was no response.

"Oh, come, dear. You are clearly awake, don't pretend…"

There was a cracking sound of a whip hitting flesh and a choked whimper.

"Say hello, Skye Spade."

The sound repeated, and this time the whimper became a scream. Bonney felt sick, and Marco looked like he could kill someone with his glare alone.

"Prove it's you, Miss Spade. It may be the last time you get the chance to speak to the man you love."

"There are only two men I'd die for," she said, breathing ragged. "Unfortunately, Law isn't one of them."

Marco's eyes widened in understanding that only graced him, but his face immediately darkened.

"I'm sure you remember, Law," said Doflamingo, "my favorite forms of torture. Flogging is so basic but so effective, especially when my threads rip skin out as microscopically as they do. It is essentially flaying but with deep tissue involvement. The risks of infection are much higher, the possibility of healing much lower. But my favorite part of it is the visual effects—just complete destruction without hope of recovery. I'm sure you all know how iconic the tattoo on Skye Spade's back is. Or rather, was."

Bonney had never seen Law lose his composure, even in times of utter crisis like during the Battle of Punk Hazard. Now, though, Law's expression was contorted in such anguish, fury, and self-loathing that the only thing Bonney could understand at the moment was that Law loved Spade.

"Stop," said Law, voice shaky.

"Ah, that's music to my ears," said Doflamingo. "Despair, that's what I hear in your voice."

"Stop," repeated Law. "You want to know the Indigo Ring method, fine. But leave her alone."

"I'd love to," said Doflamingo silkily, "but the thing is, you have no guarantee, mm? Tell me what I want to hear, Law, and I may consider being kind."

A Den-Den Mushi suddenly rang in the air, and all eyes turned to Robin, who silenced her Mushi instantly.

"Incoming Call," mouthed the Mushi mutely, "from Sabo."

Robin instantly left the room, snail in hand. Luckily, Doflamingo was too busy talking to have noticed the sudden shift in attention in the room. Seconds later, Robin re-emerged in the quarters, mouthing one word: "Stall."

Law nodded once in understanding.

"I'll tell you what you need to know," said Law, expression now neutral once again. "You may need a pen and paper, though. The process is complex."

"And accurate, I presume," said Doflamingo. "As a gesture of good faith, I will leave Spade alone for the time being, but rest assured that should you be lying, the woman you know will cease to exist."

Law picked up the Mushi from Marco's desk and wrote a note simultaneously.

 _I'll handle Doflamingo. Talk to Sabo._

Marco waved him out. Robin unmuted her Mushi after Law and his Room evaporated.

"Robin, can you hear me?" said a new, much friendlier voice from her snail. Robin had connected the Interceptor with the Blocker, allowing all parties to freely speak.

"Yes," she answered. "Law's stalling Doflamingo as long as he can. I'm with Marco the Phoenix and Bonney the Big Eater."

"Great, this is Sabo of the Revolutionary Army. Nice to meet y'all."

"Now's not a great time for niceties," said Marco bluntly. "What're y'all calling for?"

"We're currently tracking Blackbeard, and we're Intercepting Doflamingo's call right now to try and get a location. The moment we get it, we'll give the coordinates to you too."

"Why're you trackin' Blackbeard?" asked the Phoenix suspiciously.

"Well, he did invade Baltigo," said Sabo pointedly.

The explanation didn't pacify Marco. The Phoenix narrowed his eyes in thought and tapped his finger on the desk, but when he finally replied, the conclusion he arrived at was one that both Bonney and Robin could not follow.

"You fuckers are workin' with Aokiji."

"What?" gasped Bonney.

"Spade's told me before that the men she'd die for are me and Aokiji," said Marco, quietly furious. "Sayin' it just now was a way to tell me she still trusts Aokiji, but this plan to turn over Spade is too risky without havin' someone on standby. We're too far away from the scene to provide immediate backup because we have no means of trackin' 'em, but _you_." A blue flame had erupted over Marco's skin, and Robin and Bonney collectively shuddered at the sight. "You're following Aokiji's Vivre card. You're close."

"That's ridiculous," said Robin. "I was with the Army for years and Aokiji never corresponded with us."

"Because he used Hurricane," said Marco, blue eyes alight as connection after connection seemed to form in his head. "Every single report that I didn't want released but Aokiji did, it was because you guys wanted to weaken the World Government by creatin' public distrust. You guys have known she's Hurricane the whole time. That _fucker_ —this is why I told her never to trust him—"

"We didn't know she was Hurricane!" said Sabo quickly. "We did not know Spade was Hurricane until the news broke out after the Punk Hazard battle. I promise you, Aokiji talks with Dragon directly, that's why no one else heard of him. He never said anything about Hurricane."

"But I'm right about everything else," snarled Marco.

"Yes," Sabo conceded. "We are following Aokiji's Vivre card. We've been trying to Tap a call for weeks now, but it has been difficult. This is our chance to get a precise location."

"I'm gonna kill him." Marco's voice was deadly. "He doesn't give a damn what happens to her, he just manipulated her for years and makes her think that these are all her ideas—for fuck's sake, they've been preparing for months! She practiced being tortured by him— _I am gonna fucking kill him_."

"He's not like that," said Robin quietly. "I know him. He was part of the Ohara Buster Call. I have every reason to believe that he's terrible and manipulative and all those things, but he's not."

Robin placed a hand gently on Marco's shoulder, and the Phoenix seemed to relax at the contact.

"Spade doesn't trust easily, but there's a reason she has trusted Aokiji for this long. We can address this later, but we don't have time right now to debate this," she said softly. "Spade is hurt but she still trusts Aokiji. Whatever decision they've made, we need to take advantage of it."

"Yes," agreed Sabo. "Aokiji wants to wait until he's located Blackbeard's factory before we launch a full-scale attack, but we can give you our current coordinates and you can sail out now in our direction."

"We needed your coordinates days ago," said Marco.

Bonney had never seen Marco be remotely belligerent; the Phoenix was typically the calmest person she knew.

"Honestly, we didn't know you had a Blocker, or else we would've."

"Give me your coordinates," said Robin swiftly before Marco could continue arguing. "We'll head out tonight."

Sabo listed their location and hung up after the promise of calling back once they fully traced Doflamingo's call. Marco was already poring over a map when Robin set the Mushi down on his desk.

"Marco," said Robin gently.

"Mm?"

"You know you can't go."

"I'm goin'."

"You can't," said Bonney sharply. "If Kaidou shows up here and you're not here, Wano's fucked. No one else can handle him."

"I am not gonna sit on my ass while Spade gets tortured to death just because Kaidou may or may not fuckin' show up." Marco drew a circle on Sabo's coordinates, which luckily was only several days away from Wano. "Besides, none of you can handle Blackbeard either."

"Aokiji—"

"That piece of shit doesn't count," said Marco, livid.

"The Revolutionary Army is on its way," said Robin. "Besides, with the Supernovas going…it's a formidable force. We can handle it."

"You shouldn't go either," said Bonney.

Robin looked taken aback. "What?"

"Same reason Marco ain't goin'," she answered. "Wano needs the Strawhats. Chances are your captain's gonna be back soon too, and y'all will need to be here when he does. Between me, Law, and Kidd, we're gonna be pretty fuckin' strong." Bonney rubbed the back of her neck as she thought ruefully. "That is, if we don't kill each other first."

Marco looked at her carefully, his uncharacteristic anger now dissolving into his normal tranquility.

"You got this, Bon?"

Bonney grinned. "Yeah, I got this."

It made Bonney proud knowing that Marco had faith in her—whatever it was she felt for Marco, she knew that there was no time or place for it. She was fine with that. In the end, trust was worth more than anything.

* * *

It was a cliché, but Spade had always heard that while on the brink of death, people saw the ones they missed the most. Maybe it was because they had left things unfinished, or they had questions to ask and answer.

Or because they just really fucking missed them.

The liminal space between life and death was supposed to be a blank white room, with an ethereal glow shining in a prismatic pattern that beckoned toward death. Who knew if the other side was as friendly and innocent as that blank white room—for all of Spade's luck, death was as much of a shitshow as her life.

But no, she didn't even get the textbook blank room for her transitory point.

Instead, she was stuck in a cabin room, old and familiar. The small cramped bed in the corner, sheets mussed, the air stagnant. Ace always seemed to burn up all the oxygen just by existing, and Spade always complained that it was difficult for fresh air to circulate in their quarters, to which Ace would reply that as the wind-user, that was her job anyway.

So of course, her transitory point was their old room. Musty air and all.

Which meant that, of course, the person Spade missed the most was Ace.

He grinned at her, freckly as ever and his ugly orange hat by its string down his back.

"Hey, babe."

Spade smiled. She was leaning against the bed, and she didn't have the energy to reach up and touch him. "Hi, Ace."

"You're not lookin' too great there."

She laughed. "I guess you could say that."

Ace's eyes grew hard. "I'd kill him if I could."

"I know," she said softly. "I don't want to talk about him."

Ace nodded and moved so he sat beside her. He wrapped his arm around her and, engulfed in his warmth, Spade broke down sobbing.

"Hey," Ace murmured, holding her tightly. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay."

"I can't," she gasped as tears streamed down her cheeks. "I can't anymore. I can't."

"It's okay," Ace kept repeating.

But what was okay? Her back was shredded, and she was so tired and in so much pain and Doflamingo had such a horribly creative mind when it came to tormenting her. It was as if he knew exactly what she was terrified of, not just physically but mentally, as if he'd heard her tell Law that Ace of Spades was the only identity that had ever mattered to her, and ripping out that tattoo was like ripping out the last thing that declared who she truly belonged with. She couldn't even remember if she'd given up the Hurricane codes, but ultimately, Spade _didn't care_ , she just wanted Ace, she wanted something to remind her just who she was and what she cared about because now, it just felt like nothing.

And maybe that was the point, maybe she was supposed to be nothing, just empty air, because maybe wind was really nothing at all when it didn't have flames to fan.

"I'm always here," said Ace quietly in her hair. "Always."

"But you're not," she whispered. "You're not here, you never will be. I can't anymore, Ace. I miss you and I love you and you'll never be here."

"I am always here," he said again. "And I love you. And I know you love me. But you love plenty o' others, too. You love Marco. Aokiji. Luffy and his crew." Ace pressed his lips to her forehead. "You love Law."

"I—"

"I'm not here to take you, Skye. I'm here to help you. You gotta stay strong. The fight's not over, but it will be. The fight's not your body. It's in your head. He's tryna to break your mind." Ace looked at her fiercely. "Don't let him. You love me. You love Marco. You love Law. All that love, all those feelings, they're good, okay? Trust them. Don't let him warp that. Don't let him fuck it up."

Spade opened her eyes blearily, and the room had disappeared. She was in her cell, chained and broken and in pain and thirsty. She expected Doflamingo to be present, but instead, standing in front of her was Law.

She could scarcely breathe.

Law knelt down in front of her. Holy shit, this was real. _Finally_ , if Law was here that meant this was over, they'd made it in time and Aokiji had destroyed the Blackbeard factory and hopefully Blackbeard himself, because there was no other way that Law could be here unscathed.

"Law?" she croaked.

He smiled in response and reached for her shoulder, and that's when Spade knew something was wrong. Law was not about soft social warmth, he was about efficiency and getting her to safety—a smile here was misplaced, misused, but it didn't matter because then Law's hand disintegrated into threads and the next thing Spade knew, coils of threads shredded the skin at her arm and Spade screamed. Law smiled at her all the while, silent.

"It's convincing, isn't it?" said Doflamingo, appearing at the doorway. "I've never made a clone of someone else before." He entered the cell, a grin wide on his face. "I'd say this was successful."

"You're so fucking sick," she spat as the clone of Law straightened up, still smiling.

"Perhaps. It is one of my more ingenious ideas. See, the thing is, I don't want to kill you. Killing you teaches Law nothing—he'll have the same boring reaction, blaming me for taking away the person he loves. The last time I did that, Law plotted for thirteen years to overthrow me. No," Doflamingo shook his head. "The lesson has to be different. I want Law to know that whatever he loves, whomever he loves, they make him _weak_. Everything he loves dies, disintegrates, or hurts him in return. He must learn not to love at all, because it is precisely his love itself that is destroys everything he holds dear. _He_ is the disease. No one else."

"I really should've given Law more credit," she panted. "I always thought he was like you."

Doflamingo purred. "That's high and unwarranted praise, for him."

"He's _nothing_ like you."

"Still unwarranted," the former Shichibukai mused. "I wonder if you'll have such kind things to say about him when I'm done with you. Or rather, when this clone of Law is done with you."

"I know it's not him," she said.

"Yes, but do you really? You are a complex woman, but you are still a human. The wonderful thing about humans is how truly simple they are. When you strip them of everything, when they are at their basest survival instincts, humans are merely animals. Classical conditioning with visual cues and painful responses creates a natural association for noxious stimuli."

Doflamingo turned to leave with a final promise.

"Law will learn his lessons, Skye Spade, and he will learn them through you."


	21. A Touch of Flame

**Chapter 21: A Touch of Flame**

Law had never been particularly good at sleeping, a skill that came naturally only to the simple-minded and escaped the over-thinkers. After his brief imprisonment, restful sleep evaded him nearly completely. With the exception of that afternoon nap with Bepo, Law's rest was plagued with flashbacks that left him panicky, drenched in sweat, and nauseous.

It was strange being a doctor and being ill at the same time. His predicament served as a humbling reminder that the belief of mind over body only extended so far—the cerebral mulling over his condition or the ability to put a name to his state did nothing to alleviate his suffering. He knew exactly what was happening: he had acute stress disorder, and if its symptoms persisted for long enough, he would have post-traumatic stress disorder, for which there was no particularly efficacious immediate cure. It would take time and therapy to recover, and the thought of Law in therapy was a bit laughable because no therapist in their right mind would be able to unravel Law of the knots his childhood had twisted him in.

Which meant that the only thing Law could do was tell himself that he had acute stress disorder, that the reaction was somewhat understandable, and he could try to be his own therapist but that defeated the purpose of therapy so it was best not to dwell on his condition in the first place.

Understanding what was best for him was all very well and good, but it didn't make things any easier to deal with. Law knew that his arrangement with Kid annoyed everyone, from his crewmen to Bonney to Marco, and he knew that it wasn't the healthiest way to manage his stress, but the true fact of the matter was that fucking Kid made Law physically exhausted enough that he managed to fall asleep for at least an hour without thinking about anything else. He and Spade weren't exclusive, and he knew Marco and Spade had already slept together again after Law left the Whitebeard base, so he doubted Spade herself would think much of it. They were not partners or lovers; they'd barely been friends.

Though for how much Spade occupied his conscious thoughts, he knew he was trying to justify his own choices.

The night was quiet and stagnant, without even the slightest breeze to alleviate the humidity. The weather had changed for the worse this morning, and Law worried that they were drifting toward the Calm Belt. Law detached himself from Kid's sweaty limbs—the man always passed out a minute after his orgasm—and quietly reached for his clothes. He dressed silently, eager to escape the stifling heat of Kid's cabin and return to his own private quarters on the ship that Marco had outfitted for the Supernovas to track down Spade. It was not as luxurious as the Moby Dick, but it was a decently sized vessel with a wide array of weapons ranging from cannons to catapults. There was enough room onboard for all the captains and Killer to receive their own rooms, while the rest of the Heart Pirates shared bunkers below deck.

Law was honestly surprised that Kid and Killer had agreed to be part of this rescue mission at all. Basil Hawkins had declined Marco's invitation, and though the Phoenix had gregariously allowed the magician to leave, Law was certain that Marco would collect his debts in a less-than-pleasant manner in the future. But fear of the Phoenix wasn't enough to force Kid to do anything he didn't want to; Kid and Killer's reason—payback for rescuing them from Kaidou—had been rather honorable, but Law wasn't convinced. He'd have to keep an eye out for any sign of potential treachery.

He left the room without a sound and wandered on to the deck, which was thankfully empty. Bepo and Ikkaku were on duty tonight, likely up on the crow's nest. Law had stationed both of them on since the change in weather, as with Bepo being the Hearts' chief navigator and Ikkaku the weapons and engines expert, they would be able to quickly adjust the ship's course if they strayed too close into the Calm Belt. Being stuck in the Calm Belt would make them lose days, if not weeks, without a convenient scout like Spade herself. It had already been two weeks since they'd left Wano; Law had absolutely no intention of making Spade wait any longer, which meant he could not make any errors in their navigation.

Sabo had exchanged Den-Den Mushi numbers with Law, and every morning the Revolutionary Army would leave a message with updated coordinates. It seemed like Sabo himself didn't have a Blocker Mushi, which meant that he could not communicate with Law freely. It was frustrating and worrisome, sailing in some woeful direction without the slightest background information; Law could not shake the feeling that they were wandering into a trap, but he didn't have an alternative plan. With Sabo's message this morning, he anticipated that they would join the Revolutionaries within the next forty-eight hours.

Law stood at the ship's stern, watching the waters barely move as he held a cigarette between his teeth and lit it. The air was suffocating and sweat beaded over his bare torso; he didn't want to visibly expose the scars that Doflamingo had left over his body, but the feeling of his clothes clinging to his skin only aggravated his wounds more. He had initially been careful with his wrists and ankles, cautious of straining them while undergoing intense self-surgery to microscopically facilitate the healing process and prevent over-fibrosis; it had been a slow and painful process that had left Law frightened of the impact on his dexterity. With tendons shredded, Law's hands had grown accustomed to a terrifying numbness that could only mean the end of his days as a surgeon.

That was, until Marco intervened.

Shortly before they'd left Wano, the Phoenix had called Law into his office for a clandestine meeting. After ensuring that no one was around, Marco asked to see Law's wrists.

"Why?" Law said, wary.

"Bonney said you're still havin' issues with 'em."

"I'm fine," replied Law shortly.

"How many times am I gonna have to prove to you that I'm not gonna hurt you?" Marco said impatiently. "You're goin' into battle, Law. I ain't gonna send you injured, especially when I can't go myself. Give me your wrists."

Law opened his mouth to protest, but Marco didn't have the patience to prattle any longer. He grabbed Law's left wrist roughly and suddenly Law's entire limb was engulfed in blue and gold Phoenix flame. The fire was surprisingly cool to touch and completely unthreatening—Law felt the flames lick inside his bandages, beneath his skin, but before he even had time to process, the fire disappeared, leaving only Marco staring back at him smugly.

"Better?"

Law rotated his left wrist, stunned. There was no pain or weakness in his hands, and proper sensation returned to his fingertips. With an easy flex of his index finger, a miniature Room appeared over his palm, expanding and retracting with precision that Law was afraid he'd lost.

"I thought your flame only healed yourself," said Law, disbelieving.

"It did. Until today."

Law looked at him sharply. "This was the first time you've tried this?"

Marco shrugged. "I've been thinkin' about it for a while. Bonney's ability gave me the idea, how she can age herself but apply that ability to others too. 'Course, bein' a Zoan…didn't know if it would work for sure. But I guess they call me Mythical for a reason." Marco grinned cheekily at him, clearly pleased with himself.

Law brushed aside the fact that he'd just been used as a guinea pig. "Do you have any idea what you're doing? Any concept of the physiology or anatomy involved?"

"Nope," said Marco breezily.

"You just let your flames…burn."

"Yup."

Law wanted to hit him. Marco had just effectively made the role of a physician obsolete without any training at all—all those years of studying anatomy, physiology, pathophysiology were worthless in the face of a simple lick of Phoenix flame.

"Keep it quiet," said Marco as he gestured for Law's other wrist. "I don't want people comin' to me with medical issues. That ain't my role."

"Really," muttered Law. "You just put your doctor out of a job."

"I don't know if there's a limit to this ability," Marco answered as Phoenix flame wrapped around Law's right hand. "I also don't wanna be playin' God."

Law's eyes flickered up to him. "You realize you won't have that luxury, now that you have this ability? You can tell yourself all you want that you won't pick and choose your favorites, that you'll be fair, but you will reach a crossroads where none of that will matter to you. You will save the ones you want to save, and you will let the ones you want dead to die."

"That what you do?"

"I've never pretended otherwise," said Law coolly. "I do what I can to save the ones I care about, Marco. But my ability isn't like yours. People can still die, no matter how much I try otherwise. Yours…yours reaches a new realm."

"Maybe I can just use it once a day," said Marco. "Maybe I can just use it once at all, or on certain people. The point is, I'm not tryin' to be a god. I'm tryin' to be a captain to my crew, that's it."

"Are you?" Law challenged. "Last time I checked, you refuse to even own that role."

Marco's eyes glowed. "You should be really fuckin' careful, Law. I can break those wrists just as easily as I healed them."

"Just listen to me," he said, frustrated. "Both you and Spade are like this, just running from these aspects that make you uncomfortable. You are a captain, Marco, _the_ captain. You are easily and irrecoverably the Whitebeard captain, no matter how much you try to avoid that title, because you already act as one. But ownership of your roles and your responsibilities create definition and clarity in chaos, and when shit hits the fan, as it so often does, your men will need that clarity for guidance. It's the same for Spade." Law tested the range of motion of his wrists. "Whitebeard affiliate…it's too vague. You don't die for affiliates. You die for your crewmates." He met Marco's gaze fearlessly, despite knowing that he was crossing a boundary. "It is not lost on me that none of the people saving Spade are Whitebeards."

Marco's eyes narrowed. "Believe me, there's nothin' I'd like to do more than go."

"But you can't," countered Law, "because you shouldn't, and for good reason. You're the Whitebeard captain. And she's just an affiliate. It's not enough." The surgeon turned to leave.

"She's not your crewmate either."

Law paused. "True. But again, I've never pretended otherwise."

He was surprised that Marco had let him leave unharmed, but perhaps Law should've given the Phoenix more credit than that. Marco was naturally even-tempered and measured, and Law truthfully hadn't said anything that Marco himself hadn't thought of already. With so much unknown, from Spade's status to Aokiji's allegiance to the Revolutionaries' motive, they needed an anchor, and as much as Law preferred to lead, Marco's newfound ability placed him on a different level entirely. Power was useless unless the wielder decided to own it and its consequences.

Law watched the waters, finding them irritatingly still. Everything was too calm, a false mirage to the tumultuous storm brewing underneath.

As if some higher being knew Law's thoughts and wanted to laugh at them, the shriek of a Den-Den Mushi suddenly broke through the air. Law immediately drew the screaming SOS Mushi from his pocket and answered, bracing himself as his insides turned to ice.

All he could hear was the faintest breath sounds and the clinking of something metallic. Precious seconds passed, and Law opened his mouth to speak.

"Law?"

It was Spade, voice soft and shaky.

An indescribable relief filled him. "It's me."

"Good," she breathed. "Coordinates…are on the Mushi."

Sure enough, the numbers showed up inscribed in the snail's shell. Law's heart leapt slightly—they were closer than Sabo's coordinates. If they fired up the engines at maximum speed, they could arrive within the next day.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I've been better," she said, words uneven and slow. "Your old captain's…a real piece of shit."

Law couldn't help a rueful smile. "I know."

There was a tired chuckle. "I'm sorry for ever saying you were like him."

"No," he said quietly. "There are similarities. But that's not important right now. We're close, Spade. Just…hang in there."

The words sounded empty, even by his standards. Hang in there? What useless advice, as if she weren't doing her best to stay alive already.

She seemed to know how clumsy he was with his consolations, and she laughed. "Yeah. Okay."

"We're almost there," Law reiterated. "I know you've waited—"

"Law, I'm not going to make it out of here."

The words came clear, coherent. Law stared at the snail in his hand.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said harshly. "We're on our way, within the next day I can get to you—"

"No, you don't get it," she cut in. "I'm not going to make it, okay? Be it mind or body…something is going to break in me soon. This has been the only…bit of clarity I've had in so long. And it's because it's going to end soon. And since it is…you need to follow Aokiji, okay? Give him back-up."

"My goal has never been to help Aokiji," Law said angrily. "Marco sent me to find you, to save you and that's the only thing I care about right now."

"You and I both know that there's always been something bigger than us," Spade said softly.

"Not right now—I never gave a shit about Blackbeard and honestly don't care much for Aokiji either. I said that I would get you back safely if it was the last thing I did and—"

"Please, Law."

Law swore, and he looked out at sea, where the sky was beginning to lighten and gentle lilacs seeped into the clouds. The edges of his vision were blurred, and he wondered why that was the case.

"Why call if you didn't want to be saved?" he demanded. "Why give me your coordinates?"

Spade giggled and it sounded delirious. "Thought you'd want to kill Doflamingo afterward."

"I'd rather, " Law felt something acidic lodge in his throat and he swallowed it down, "I'd rather save you."

"That's the thing, Law," she murmured. "I never asked for you to save me."

"Yes, instead you've asked me to help the men in your life you deem more important than yourself," he said bitterly. "But they do not weigh the same to me, Spade."

"I know. But you will waste your time coming here first."

The sky looked a brilliant canvas of warm hues. Where sea met open air, the burgeoning peak of the sun began to rise, a scene of tranquility that Law wanted to destroy. Something in his eyes stung, and everything felt so vast but vacant. The Den-Den Mushi in Law's hand was such a pitiful representation of something, someone that Law wanted desperately in person. How long had it been now since he and Spade had felt those isolated moments of contentment? How foolish he'd been, to take peace for granted.

"Mushi's almost gone, Law." Spade sounded faint. "Promise me, okay? There are things bigger than you and me…and killing Blackbeard is one of them."

Law could not promise—he could not say much at all. It struck him that this was the conversation that Doflamingo had gleefully urged Spade to make, the last time she would be able to speak to the man she loved.

But was that even true? In this last conversation, Spade still asked Law to save another man, to fight the greater fight. And part of Law could not help but wonder: would Spade have done the same if he were Portgas D. Ace instead? Was there something so fundamentally different about them that whatever love between Spade and Law would always be less significant than a higher goal?

Could this even be called love, if it was not worth dying for?

Spade had always had the uncanny ability to read his mind at the least opportune moments, and she used that ability now.

"It was real," she said. "It is real. Whatever it is between us. Okay? No matter how little you trust me. It's real. I told you I love you. I would've never hurt you."

"I know that," Law said immediately, almost defensively. He knew how he came across, insistent to the bitter end that he was not ungrateful for Spade's trust, that he did truly know her worth, that he had not intended to betray her but instead had simply made a mistake. "I am not trying to save you just because Marco told me to. I…I never intended to hurt you. Even if I did, and I'm sorry for it." He inhaled shakily. "But I wouldn't hurt you willingly. Not…not like before."

 _When I took your heart and crushed it in my palm because I could, because I wanted to, because I wanted to own you._

There was a long pause, and Law wondered if Spade had fallen asleep.

"Law?" She sounded tired. "Doflamingo made a—"

The call cut off, and the SOS Mushi let out a shrill cry before erupting into a fistful of flames. Law jerked his hand back to avoid being burned, and the fire fell to the ground, leaving nothing but smoldering ashes. The five minutes were over.

Law knelt to the ground, combing through the warm ashes to try and find some semblance of life amidst a pile of nothing. The gnawing ache in his chest became a full-fledged roar; this was the price to pay for emotion, for investment, to care. It had been a long, long time since Law had lost someone he loved, for he had kept a small crew and protected them fiercely, but Spade was neither crewmate nor benefactor, neither foe nor friend.

And in chaotic ambiguity, Law found no clarity. He just _hurt,_ as his heart fell through free-fall, and he both understood and failed to comprehend what exactly it meant to love when safety was never guaranteed.

It took several minutes to realize that his search through the ashes was ineffective, blinded by tears.

* * *

"Absolutely fuckin' not."

Law ignored Bonney and made a Room to transport himself to the escape submarine floating on the waters below. Livid, Bonney grabbed him by the arm.

"You've lost it," she said, the remnants of her breakfast flying with her spit. "Do you even hear yourself right now?"

"I spoke with Spade last night through the SOS Mushi," he said calmly. "I'm going to sail to the coordinates I received."

"I had the fuckin' Mushi all night!" she shouted. "It was in my bag because I was on watch, Trafalgar. You dreamed those coordinates and you dreamed that conversation—you're sailin' to nowhere!"

"I understand that it doesn't make logical sense," said Law, still infuriatingly tranquil, "but I cannot explain it. All I can say is that I _know_ this is true. I'm not asking you to join me. I've ordered my crew to sail toward Sabo's coordinates with everyone else. But I need to check this out on my own."

Furious, Bonney turned to Kid and Killer, who were looking at them with amused expressions. Well, at least Kid was—Killer's face remained a mystery.

"Tell him he's gone insane," Bonney demanded.

"You've gone cuckoo," said Kid, the last word in sing-song.

"Helpful," muttered Law.

"Look, Trafalgar, I don't give a damn what happens to you but I'd expect this kinda batshit crazy talk from someone like Hawkins," said Kid. "You literally believe you had an entire conversation with Skye Spade on an SOS Mushi that you don't have, especially while Spade's a prisoner? How'd she have the time to talk? How'd she hide the Mushi while bein' tortured?"

Bonney pointed to Kid, flooded with surprise. "Amazingly enough, all that made sense!"

"Fuck off, pink bitch."

"I can't explain," said Law tersely. "I just know. And I recognize that I sound mad, but you all know that I am not the type to spout nonsense. If I am so convicted of this, does that not carry its own weight?"

Bonney looked at Kid uncertainly. The redhead shrugged.

"I don't care what you do," repeated Kid. "It's your own call. Yesterday you kept bitchin' 'bout how we were gonna lose days bein' this close to the Calm Belt without any winds. If you wanna sail by yourself, fine by me—you'll lose more than days if you're goin' nowhere. Our goal is just to save Skye Spade so we can pay her and Marco back." Killer nodded at this. "No offense, we don't give a shit what happens to you. Die, and we'll have one less enemy in the long run."

"Seriously?" said Bonney angrily. "That's your stance?"

Kid rolled his eyes. "What'd you want, a pep talk? It's fuckin' Trafalgar Law. You ain't gonna stop him from doin' what he wants." He pointed a long, painted nail in Law's direction. "See? Bastard's already gone."

Bonney whipped around, and sure enough, Law was nowhere to be found. The blue Room evaporated, and when Bonney peered over the edge of the deck, she saw the gray steel submarine submerge and disappear from sight.

"Son of a bitch," swore Bonney.

* * *

Aokiji had to admit that Blackbeard's imitation SMILE factory was impressive. Missing Caesar Clown, Blackbeard could not mass-produce the artificial Zoan Fruits, but the assembly lines that occupied the underground of Blackbeard's massive base were currently spitting out thousands of tiny lilac pills. They were all uniform with a silver shine, quite pretty as they deposited en masse in a large basin near the laboratory's exit.

"Gotta hand it to Mingo," guffawed Blackbeard as they overlooked the massive assembly beneath them, masked by purple fumes that rose lazily from a distiller. "Didn't think it'd be so easy to get the method outta Trafalgar, but he did."

"Careful," mused Aokiji. "You have no idea if these pills actually work."

"Nah, we tested on someone. They work."

"I see."

The ex-Admiral made his way around the railing overlooking the rest of the laboratory, where Blackbeard's lackeys scuttled around to ensure all systems were properly operating. Early this morning, Lafitte had informed Kuzan that the Yonkou was finally willing to reveal the laboratory and had provided him with coordinates to a nearby hidden base. Kuzan hid his relief to finally have some progress with what continued to be an exhausting plan.

With several weeks of nonstop production, the amount of Indigo Ring pills that had been collected was absurd. The pills did work; in the end, Doflamingo knew Law best, and he had proved that Law could not lie when Spade's life was on the line. Though somewhat disappointing, Kuzan could not help but consider how peculiar Spade's relationship with Law was, particularly in how swiftly it'd developed. Nonetheless, Kuzan was not in a position to question it, given the extent of its ramifications.

Aokiji had been careful to contain his concern for his pupil. Since handing her over to Doflamingo, the Pheasant had not laid eyes on her, though Doflamingo was always more than happy to update him with picturesque details. It made Aokiji sick and guilty; what kind of guardian was he to passively allow for her torture? It dredged up all of the unspoken accusations Marco had of him—Aokiji had raised Spade as a soldier, an orphan he'd picked up amidst refuse, only happy to discard once her use expired.

Kuzan knew it wasn't true, that his concern for Spade extended further than that. This plan was a decision that had both their consents. Spade was an adult, and should she have decided that she did not want to follow through, Kuzan would've been more than happy to abandon this plot. Spade wanted this—as much as anyone could want being the scapegoat. Aokiji ignored the part of his brain that insisted that Spade could not provide true consent to this plan, not with her history of continuously vying for his approval.

 _Stupid girl_ , thought Aokiji, though not before thinking, _stupid me, why couldn't you have just raised her like a normal person and she wouldn't be as broken as she is_.

Aokiji blinked his thoughts away. Spade wasn't broken. Or maybe she was, but really, what Marine or pirate wasn't? Only healthy, sane people could live in ignorance within the confines of the law.

Regardless, their plan had worked. Aokiji was in Blackbeard's factory now, and if everything was going accordingly, the Revolutionaries were close by. The Whitebeards were likely too far to be able to participate in this battle, which was disappointing. Marco would have provided tremendous fighting power against a Yonkou, especially when it seemed that Aokiji alone would have difficulty against Blackbeard.

For good measure, Aokiji surreptitiously reached for the SOS Mushi in his pocket and dialed, transmitting the coordinates to its other half immediately. As he did so, Blackbeard ambled over to him.

"Whaddya think?"

"It's impressive," said Aokiji. "That being said, how effective is it? Has anyone who's ingested two Fruits tried these?"

"Not yet," admitted Blackbeard. "Our doc ain't sure of the interactions with the Fruits. He thinks…somethin' 'bout cells, I don't remember. Either way, he said we should try it on someone fresh, make 'em a new Double User."

Aokiji's blood went cold, but he kept his voice casual. "Oh? Who?"

"Well, we got a good prisoner, dontcha think?" Blackbeard answered. She's a Logia user, which is rare. We got coupl'o spare Fruits, nothin' all that excitin', to make her try. If it kills her, we don't lose anything. If it works, we know then, and we can get rid of her after."

"…This is why you wanted to keep her alive."

"Yeah." Blackbeard didn't sound callous—he simply just didn't _care_. He spoke of Spade as if she were a fruit fly buzzing around his head, annoying but insignificant. "Thing is, I like her Kaze Kaze ability. Coupl'o me men want to absorb it. Might as well have her test out its limits before we take it from her."

"I see," said Kuzan sedately.

Blackbeard grinned at him. "I won't make ya do it."

"Beg your pardon?"

"Kill her off. Know it'd be weird. I won't make ya do it."

"I was the one who brought her here," said Aokiji dryly. "If you think sentiment remains, perhaps you're not seeing the picture clearly."

"Yeah, I know. Still, I never figured out how Spade got off that executioner's platform at Marineford. Mystery, eh?"

Aokiji did not like the implication. "She's always had a few tricks up her sleeve."

"Yeah, so I'll do it myself tonight. Don't wanna see any more of her tricks. You should come. It'll be fun."

"Fun," echoed Aokiji as the Yonkou left.

The ex-Admiral surveyed the scene below him, committing the layout to memory as he considered his options. He did not know if the Revolutionaries were close enough to be able to provide back-up by the time of Spade's proposed execution. Aokiji could destroy the factory beneath him easily and escape, but Spade would likely die in the aftermath. For all his great power, Kuzan was uncertain if he'd be able to fight Blackbeard head-on and emerge victorious. He preferred to have reinforcements, particularly if Blackbeard was surrounded by his crew.

Amidst the purplish smoke that filled the room, Aokiji noticed the barest flicker of an unnatural and familiar blue. He recognized it instantly.

Careful to remain casual, he ambled out of the atrium containing the Indigo Ring machinery and headed slowly to his quarters. The blue of Trafalgar Law's Room came and went instantaneously—Aokiji blinked as minimally as possible, questioning his vision if the Room even existed, only to be surrounded by a jerking motion and appear directly in his room without any further notice.

He looked down at the Surgeon of Death sitting comfortably in his chair, peering from beneath the shadows of a snow leopard cap. All of the surveillance Mushi that were hidden in the nooks and crannies of Aokiji's small room laid dismembered and useless on his desk.

Aokiji had many questions, but what struck him the most was that Law did not even have his nodachi unsheathed.

"You seem oddly relaxed, especially given the circumstances of our last meeting," remarked the former Admiral.

"Do not let appearances fool you," said Law. "I merely do not believe in useless pretenses. If you're not invested in Spade's safety, then you can turn me over promptly. My plan is contingent on your collaboration; if we are not on the same side, then you can go ahead and call Blackbeard now. I will not struggle."

Kuzan arched an eyebrow. "Oh? That seems most unlike you, to not have a back-up plan."

Law's lips curled. "Perhaps that's my plan all along."

Aokiji sighed. "Enough, playing games with you is exhausting. I am on Spade's side, and as someone whose intentions are constantly questioned, I'm certain you can empathize with my situation of never being believed. Have you been in touch with the Revolutionaries?"

Law's eyes flickered in understanding of Kuzan's peace offering—the blatant admission of his allegiance. "Not since yesterday, when I left the others."

"Who are the others?"

"My crew, as well as three Supernovas."

Aokiji frowned, thinking. They weren't Marco, but the Supernovas were no pushover. "Where are they now?"

"Sailing toward the Revolutionaries," Law let out a breath. "They were following Sabo's coordinates, but seeing as you've just arrived here, they will take some time to correct their initial misdirection."

"So you're here alone? How'd you find this place in the first place?"

Law grimaced. "To tell the truth, I'm not sure how to describe it as other than some kind of divine intervention. I had a…dream of sorts."

"You had a dream," repeated Aokiji slowly.

"The details don't matter," Law said irately. "I arrived last night alone because I didn't want to derail the others on the basis of a mere hunch. I've scouted out the premises and understand the general lay of this base, from the manufacturing plant to the storage of the raw Indigo Rings. The only thing I can't find is Spade herself."

"She's with Doflamingo. He doesn't keep her in the base."

"Then where is she?"

Aokiji kept his voice tempered. "He's on your sub. He realized that Spade does poorly when the vessel reaches beneath a certain depth. I haven't seen her since I handed her over."

Law stared at Aokiji, an undeniable heat flashing through his eyes only to disappear like a bolt of lightning. "I see. But he'll have to return with her tonight, if what Blackbeard said earlier is true."

"That seems to be the case." Aokiji sat down on his bed. "We have only a few hours before they return, I imagine. Not enough time to prepare."

"Prepare what?" Law said dryly. "I haven't even heard what your intentions are."

"I would've preferred to wait until the Revolutionaries arrived before we fought Blackbeard. But Spade has suffered enough. I do not intend to stand by idly as they test on her like a rat."

Law's eyes glittered in vindictive contempt. "Good. Then you're lucky to have me. I've had all day to prepare and have already contacted my crew. They're on their way. I have a plan to escape with Spade while wreaking the havoc on Blackbeard's crew as she intended."

As Aokiji listened to Law's plan, he was struck with a strange thought.

Law would've made an excellent Admiral.

* * *

Law had plenty of experience sneaking around enemy bases after his extended stay at Punk Hazard, though he did not enjoy it. There was something unseemly about scurrying in the shadows like some beaten animal slinking with its tail between its legs. As evidenced by the Dressrosa incident, when Law declared war, he typically preferred his enemies to know.

Unfortunately, he did not have that option now. He waited patiently in the atrium containing the Indigo Ring machinery while Blackbeard and several of his lackeys entered, raucous and drunk after their evening meal. Aokiji strode in several minutes later, followed shortly after by a familiar extravagant coat of pink feathers whose mere color made Law's stomach turn. Doflamingo looked well, much to Law's dismay. He didn't expect otherwise though—despite being smashed by the Polar Tang, Doflamingo had incredible regenerative abilities.

"I thought I told you I wanted her alive, Mingo," said Blackbeard, voice echoing roughly in the room.

"She is," came Doflamingo's silky reply.

"Doesn't look like it," Lafitte said dubiously.

"She is, she is," said Doflamingo soothingly. "I checked, she still has a pulse and is still breathing."

"When's the last time she was conscious?" Aokiji's voice was smooth as ice, giving nothing away.

"Earlier today. Don't _worry_. I've been taking very good care of her."

Something dropped to the ground with a metallic thud, and Doflamingo moved out of the way to give Law vision of a crumpled heap on the floor. It took longer than it should have for him to parse out the details; Spade's long hair was matted in dried blood and appeared cut jaggedly. She was covered in both fresh and scabbed blood, her clothes so shredded that she was practically naked. She looked thin and unbearably fragile.

Law bit his lip, furious and struggling to keep his Haki under control as Doflamingo used his ability to mobilize Spade's limp body into a sitting position. Spade's eyes opened barely with the movement.

"See?" said Doflamingo gleefully. "She's still alive."

"What," she breathed, "for, you fuckers?"

"Well, she's not completely lost it yet," laughed Blackbeard. "That's somethin', at least. Guess she couldn't be useless if she brought down Burgess."

Spade's eyes flickered barely. "That what…you're so angry about? You took Ace. Least I could do…was take one of yours."

"Ya hold grudges for a fuckin' long time then," said Blackbeard, his cavalier tone finally taking on an edge.

Spade's gaze lingered on him, but she seemed too tired to mount more verbal loathing. She turned to Aokiji, who stared down at her impassively.

"Kuzan," she said quietly.

"Oh please," Doflamingo said before Aokiji could even respond. "There's no need to spend time on these theatrics; what did you all want her back for?"

"Some preliminary testing," said Van Auger. "I have the spare Devil's Fruit and the Indigo Ring pill, Commander. Which should we administer first?"

"Wait, what is this?" said Doflamingo, offended. "You're force-feeding her another Devil's Fruit? She'll die."

"She'll die from it or I'll kill her later," said Blackbeard. "Either way, she'll die tonight."

Doflamingo was displeased. "That was not my intention."

"Not your intention?" snickered Lafitte. "You've driven her a centimeter from the grave and you're afraid to push her over it?"

"I have been careful in my cultivation," he retorted. "If she dies before…"

"Before what? Surely you've had ample time to extract all the necessary information from her."

"It's nothing," Doflamingo said resignedly. "I merely wanted Law to see her one more time before she died."

"Why would you want that?" Van Auger said, bewildered.

"No reason," Doflamingo sighed. "A corpse will do its job, I suppose."

"I'm tired," said Spade softly. "Aokiji."

"What do you expect him to do?" sneered Blackbeard. "He brought ya to us. The Whitebeards have no idea where you are, and from our sources, none of 'em have made a move to find ya. You're alone, Skye Spade, and you're gonna die alone tonight."

Spade only had eyes for her old mentor. "Aokiji, please."

Law was a master of self-restraint, but the character of Spade's voice made something primal in him roar with a fury to lash out. Broken and pleading, the sound of Spade beginning that was reserved for _his_ ears alone and in a very different context—as despairing as the situation was, Law did not miss the effect it had on him, reaffirming that he was, at his core, disturbing.

Law saw Aokiji's profile stiffen and he gritted his teeth. The former Admiral had to resist—the timer he'd set on the distillation device to explode just entered its last minute. Once the explosive went off, Law would destroy the rest of the manufacturing chain and in the chaos, escape with Spade while Aokiji fended off the Blackbeards. Earlier the night before, Law had Summoned all of Blackbeard's Interception Mushi and managed to make a call to his crew. He couldn't be certain where the Revolutionaries were, but the other Supernovas and Heart Pirates were already positioned on standby. Once Law and Spade could escape to a vessel, they would be able to lure their attackers out to sea, where the rest of them could ambush from behind. On the ocean itself, they would also have the advantage of terrain, though Law doubted Spade would be able to contribute much combatively.

Quietly, Law unsheathed Kikoku as Doflamingo forced Spade to open her mouth and ingest the tiny lilac pill.

"There we go," purred Doflamingo. "Swallowing shouldn't be a problem for you; we've had much practice with this exercise, after all."

Law wanted to kill Doflamingo _so fucking badly_.

"Now the Fruit," said Van Auger. "This is the Karasu Karasu no Mi. If it's successful, she'll be able to turn into a crow."

"Useless, since she's already able to fly," remarked Lafitte.

"Don't matter," said Blackbeard. "You ready to absorb the Kaze Kaze no Mi, Lafitte?"

"With pleasure," he grinned. "I've been waiting a long time for a Logia power. I believe this will suit me just fine."

"Wish we'd gotten that Mera Mera no Mi," his commander bemoaned. "Really do work well together."

Spade reached for the pieces of the spiral shaped fruit in front of her, her limbs clearly out of her control. She seemed to be resisting some, for the movement was slow, and Law was thankful that without even knowing, Spade bided time when he needed it the most.

Ten more seconds on the timer.

"Kuzan," Spade whispered. "It's enough."

"I know," he said simply.

Five seconds.

She brought the fruit up to her lips, hand shaking and eyes deadened. "You promised me."

"…I know." Aokiji's features softened. "You did well, Skye. You can rest now."

Law created a Room just as the timer hit zero. The large glass distillery flasks exploded, showering the hall in sharp flecks that Law hoped avoided each and every one of the Blackbeards, because he intended to cut each and every one of them into pieces and sprinkle their beating hearts into the sea.

* * *

 _free talk_ :

 _sorry for the delay! hope you all have had a happy holiday thus far. thanks for reading, and please leave your thoughts!_

 _xoxo,_

 _m.n_


	22. Control and Concessions

**Chapter 22: Control and Concessions**

Donquixote Doflamingo was a dangerous man with a reputation so nefarious that, despite having walked straight to his crew demanding to join, the ten-year-old Trafalgar Law was appropriately nervous when he was called to meet the captain alone.

"Don't be so shy," Doflamingo said soothingly when Law appeared at his doorway. "Come in."

Law padded in quietly and stood in front of his potential captain. Doflamingo was so tall and so imposing that Law found it difficult to look straight at his reflective sunglasses. Anxious, he cast his gaze elsewhere. Doflamingo's quarters were regal and opulent; the floor was covered in luxurious fur rugs that Law recognized to belong to several extinct saber-tooth felines, and the walls were decorated with broadaxes so large they could have only belonged to giants. His eyes landed on a stack of books on the coffee table next to the comfortable felt love seat that Doflamingo occupied.

"You're reading about Flevance?" Law said, surprising even himself with his outburst.

"Yes," Doflamingo mused. "I needed to verify your story, after all. It's a shame, what happened to your hometown."

He did not sound sincere, so Law did not bother acting like he did. He remained silent.

"I dug into your background too," the Heavenly Yaksha continued. "You lost a sister to the Amber Lead Syndrome as well?"

"She didn't die to the disease, she was killed," said Law angrily.

"Yes, but it looked like she didn't have much time left regardless," Doflamingo said dismissively.

"She—"

"The details don't matter, Law," he interrupted. "No matter how she died, the World Government killed her. I am well aware of that."

Law agreed, so he held his tongue.

"I didn't call you here to talk about your sister, though I am sorry for what happened to her. I've been in your shoes—I know what it means to lose people I love. All that's left after their deaths is a raging fury, and the only thing that can quench it is revenge."

Doflamingo's voice had softened slightly, and it made the hairs on Law's arms prickle, as if a sincere Doflamingo was even more dangerous than normal.

"So I understand you, you know. That anger you have. Not many kids would seek me out, especially in your circumstances. Likewise, most adults would turn you away—no one has any use for a child, much less one who will die in three years. But I understand you." He shifted in his seat and leaned down so his elbows rested on his knees, allowing him to look at Law face-to-face. "I know what you're feeling. So perhaps I'm being soft, but I want to help you achieve your goals. I'll let you join my crew."

Relief flooded Law, but he didn't let it show.

"Good. Thanks."

Doflamingo laughed. "Not so fast, child. I want to talk about your father."

Law peered up at him, confused. "What about him?"

"From what I read," Doflamingo gestured to the books next to him, "he was quite the doctor."

"He was the best in Flevance," said Law petulantly.

"Yes," Doflamingo said with a tinge of impatience, as if once more, the details didn't matter. Or perhaps he just didn't like Law interrupting him. "I understand he taught you extensively, and you're accomplished in medical knowledge as well?"

"Yes."

"Do you intend to follow in his footsteps?"

"If I did, do you think I'd be here?"

Doflamingo did not answer immediately, but Law felt something oppressive expand and fill the room. He opened his mouth to scream, but his body was out of his control. He struggled but nothing he did mounted any kind of resistance against the invisible forces that had taken over his body. Against his will, he sank to his knees in front of Doflamingo, powerless.

"If you are to join this crew, there are a few fundamentals you need to understand," Doflamingo said silkily. "The first and foremost is _I_ am your captain, which means that you will speak to me with respect. Knowing who is in charge on a team is important, and I expect that you will not have a similar slip of tone in the future. Understand?"

Law nodded, though he was unsure to whom the action belonged.

"Good. I don't like teaching lessons more than once." Law felt the immense pressure surrounding him disappear and he scrambled to his feet, unconsciously backing away from Doflamingo several steps. The captain was unperturbed and gestured for Law to take a seat across from him.

"Now, where were we? Oh yes, your father. A good man, it seems. But I have no need for good men, Law. This oath that your father swore as a doctor, to do no harm, I have no need for that." Doflamingo examined him levelly. "My men can equip you with the deadliest of weapons, techniques, and with the resources I will provide you, you can become the best doctor across the four seas. But you will not swear this oath, Law. I _want_ you to do harm. You will become so skilled in doing harm that it will be easier than healing. Are you fine with that?"

"Of course," Law said stiffly.

"Oh? Even if it goes against what your father taught you, I'm certain?"

"Doing no harm didn't save my father," Law spat. "I want to hurt them—I _need_ to."

Doflamingo seemed satisfied. "Good. Your training will be vigorous and painful. I will not take it easy on you, even with your illness."

"I don't need your pity."

Doflamingo struck out so quickly that Law did not even registered he'd been hit until he was on the floor, head exploding with pain and tears stinging his eyes.

"I said I didn't like to teach lessons twice, Law." Doflamingo stood up to his full height, and Law could not help but shudder. "I'm letting you join my crew and teaching you everything you would want to know. So let's try that response again, shall we?"

"…Thank you, sir."

Doflamingo was satisfied and he delivered on his promises. Law swiftly became the most well learned physician in the four seas, and even many years after deserting the Donquixote family, he never had trouble with inflicting harm on others. The pain he could elicit with the simple flick of his fingers and the screams that echoed them pleased him as much as the tattoos etched in his skin. The oath he'd never sworn never really crossed his mind, though once in a while he did wonder what his father's reaction would be if he knew his son had grown up to be the Surgeon of Death.

* * *

It had been several days since the Polar Tang had set sail from Zou with an unwilling companion on board, though the recent news of Doflamingo's escape from Impel Down had certainly smoothed things over between Law and Spade. Of course, that had nothing to do with Law kissing her after she'd shared the news. Definitely unrelated to any residual sexual tension.

It was early morning, or very late at night. The two were often indistinguishable, especially when Law had the sleeping patterns he did. He often heard from his concerned crewmates that he had the worst sleep hygiene in the world, that really he should stop drinking so much coffee in the evening because it didn't do any good for him. Ever since meeting Spade, though, Law defensively thought that she deserved that title more than he did.

When Law entered the mess hall of the Polar Tang at four fifteen, he was not surprised to find the most recent occupant of his fantasies sitting at one of the dining tables sullenly drinking a cup of coffee. What he was surprised by was three of his crewmen, howling with laughter around her, as Skye Spade drank coffee (with a light dash of cream, no sugar) dressed in a drab gray Hearts Pirate boiler suit. A plate of fish and chips sat on the table, surrounded by two candles burning brightly.

Shachi wiped away a tear from his eyes as he greeted Law, who looked bemusedly at the scene. Spade stared up at him stonily, as if daring him to laugh or even venture a guess as to why she was dressed in an outfit she had frequently described as "less appealing than a skinned Den-Den Mushi."

Law decided to begin with a safe question.

"Why are you all awake?"

Bepo munched on a piece of dry fish. "We were about to sleep, but then Spade got up and we all started talking and lost track of time."

"I see." Law tried to think of another question but could not get around the very obvious one in a boiler suit who sat in determined silence. "Miss Spade, why are you in, er, uniform?"

"I lost a bet," she said thinly as she glared at Bepo, who mouthed an apology blushingly. "Fucking Bepo, I thought you hated the heat! You're a polar bear—how are you not afraid of fire?"

"I don't _like_ it," he said defensively, "but I had something to prove!"

Law cleared his throat as he sat down next to Spade. "And what exactly was that?"

He reached for her coffee and tugged it gently out of her hold so he could drink it. She glared at him, but it was not the scariest look she'd ever given him, so he ignored her. Spade sighed, irritated, but didn't say anything else.

"We were tryna prove who had higher pain tolerance, women or polar bears," grinned Penguin. "Shachi and I lost early, but these two lasted for ages…"

Law glanced at the candles, then his gaze swiveled to Bepo who gave him a guilty grin.

"Are you injured?" he said sharply.

Bepo shook his head. "My fur is pretty heat-repellant, you know that."

"Miss Spade?"

She tugged imperceptibly at her sleeve. "I'm fine."

Law sighed and grabbed her wrist, causing her to flinch. "Miss Spade…"

She uncurled her fingers, showing a blistering angry welt in the center of her palm. Law stared at her, trying his best not to be angry.

"It was a bet," Spade said, somewhat abashed. "If I won, Bepo said he'd let me fire a torpedo."

"And if Bepo won, she'd have to wear our boiler suit for a day," snickered Penguin.

Law could not believe that _none_ of them had stopped to think that this was a terrible idea, and he did not know whom he held more accountable.

"I thought you were smart," he snapped at Spade, settling on his primary culprit.

"I've never fired a torpedo," she mumbled.

"You could've just asked!" Law traced the outline of the burn and shook his head. "We need to apply salve and bandage this. You're coming with me to the unit. You three, bed."

"We'll help," Shachi said quickly. "We kinda, uh, egged them on so—"

"I don't need four people for one bandage," said Law coolly. "I only needed one functioning brain to realize that this bet could've led to serious injury!"

"C'mon, Cap'n," grinned Penguin. "Admit it, you think she looks good in her suit!"

Spade flicked him off. "It's a fucking abomination and you know it, asshat."

"Yeah and you're wearing that abomination for another, oh, twenty-three hours!"

"Fuck you Penguin, and you too, Bepo. You and your stupid Mink fur—"

"If you're going to live with us," Law said with minimal pride, "you should learn not to bet against our navigator. He rarely loses."

"That's right!" the bear said smugly.

"Bed, you three."

Law guided Spade out of the mess down to the infirmary, where she sat on the examination table with uncharacteristic timidity. He raised an eyebrow as he approached her with his burn supplies.

"What?" he said skeptically.

"Sorry," she exhaled. "I know you hate patching up stupid things. It was stupid. Sorry."

Law dragged up a chair and gestured for her to relax her arm against her knee.

"You held your hand against open flame, Miss Spade. What did you really expect to happen?"

"I thought Bepo would cave in way earlier. I was used to Ace's flames, so I figured I had a higher burn tolerance than most. Apparently not," she added when Law looked up at her with severe judgment.

"Apparently not," he agreed, applying some ointment. "The others goof off once in a while, but I didn't expect you to be as reckless."

"I'm not on important matters," she said swiftly, as if trying to assert that this incident should have no bearing on her professional credibility. "We were just kidding around and it escalated." She smiled slightly, watching Law carefully as he unraveled a roll of gauze. "I sort of forgot I was aboard an enemy ship."

"A dangerous mistake to make if you were truly on an enemy ship. Fortunately for you, I am not your enemy."

Spade scoffed. "No matter how patched up we are, Trafalgar, you have my heart. I haven't forgotten."

Law hummed. "With how things have been lately, I nearly did."

Spade narrowed her eyes, but held still as Law tied the bandage neatly. She looked like she wanted to be confrontational, but Law was not in the mood.

"I will return your heart to you in due time, Miss Spade. Don't worry."

He expected her to retort, but instead, she nodded stiffly. He sighed, glad that the burn was not any worse, and leaned back in his seat.

"I'll check on it again tomorrow," he said. "Don't get it wet."

"Thanks."

She tugged the too-long sleeve of her boiler suit over her hand, as if hiding the wound out of sight would absolve her of its existence. Law allowed himself a small smile.

"You do look good in it."

Spade flushed and glared at him. "You can't be serious. I couldn't believe that you allowed these things to be your team uniform, but then I remembered _your_ atrocious fashion sense and suddenly it all didn't seem so absurd."

"You cannot lecture me on fashion, Miss Spade, when you wear the same thing everyday."

"It's for functionality! At least my tanks are bland and un-eye-catching, not the horrid neon yellow you wear sometimes."

"These suits are bland and un-eye-catching, so perhaps they're right up your alley."

"But they're _so ugly_!"

Spade sounded so desperate about this fact that Law laughed. Spade looked at him strangely.

"What?"

"N-Nothing."

Law tilted his head to the side. "You sure?"

"Yeah." She looked elsewhere.

Law studied her, noting the change from a laughing, friendly Spade to the one who seemed so uneasy now. He understood the source of her awkwardness.

"…It bothers you, doesn't it? Being around a crew?"

When she returned her gaze to him, she appeared so uncomfortable that Law was certain she would deflect from this point of conversation. Perhaps it was the odd hour, or the fact she had bonded with his crewmen, or that she was wearing his crew's uniform, but Spade was surprisingly honest.

"A bit," she admitted. "I just…it's not something I'm used to. It's a small group, and it's only been a little while, but your team is very…" She gestured absentmindedly. "Open. It's easy to trust them."

"Unlike me," he said.

"I didn't say that."

"You were thinking it."

"Well, can you blame me?" she said, exasperated.

"No," he said simply.

She did not answer, and Law found himself retreating into his own thoughts. He could not decide if he liked how easily Spade fit into his life when she connoted so much danger in any other context. It was not the first time he'd found her laughing with his crewmates. As hideous as that boiler suit was, Law had not been lying when he'd complimented her. He always had liked to put his insignia on things he owned, like his submarine or these uniforms.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" she said suddenly, breaking him from his thoughts.

It echoed the request he'd posed only days before, and because Spade had cautiously accepted the request, Law did the same.

"Go ahead."

"At Punk Hazard and Dressrosa, you were alone. You said that you didn't want your crew involved because it wasn't fair to them. And…" Spade hesitated slightly, which was peculiar because she typically did not mince words, "you wanted to handle things alone because you…didn't think you deserved their help when it came to something as dark as your past."

Law did not like how Spade could profile him and present all of these deep realizations as simply as she did.

"I didn't hear a question in all those musings, Miss Spade," he said lightly.

"When I met you, you were about to die."

"So I recall."

Spade tugged at her sleeve tensely. "So you were okay with that? Dying alone?"

Law realized what she was getting at and sighed. "Of course not. Punk Hazard was an infiltration mission, one that I did not need my crew for. Ultimately, I would've planned for my crew to be involved in the Dressrosa mission if I'd had my way, but it just happened to pan out that way after Strawhat showed up at Punk Hazard. I went with the flow."

"Oh. I see."

"I don't intend to die alone, loveless in the world, Miss Spade."

Her head jerked up. "I wasn't—that wasn't what I was asking."

"That is most certainly what you were asking, and you seem disappointed that I answered otherwise."

"I…"

"I'm careful with who I let close," he said. "But contrary to what you constantly say about me…I love this crew, and I try not to be undeserving of what I receive in return."

Spade smiled at him wistfully. "No, of course not."

She slid off the table and took a deep breath.

"Thanks for patching me up. And…sorry for asking."

"Don't be."

She made a movement to walk past him, but Law caught her by the wrist.

"We have not known each other for very long," he said quietly, "and you may be quite terrible at being part of a crew, but I do not think you should intend to die alone, Miss Spade. It might make people angry." He glanced up at her. "Myself included."

Spade's genuine surprise melted into such a brilliant smile that Law almost looked away.

"That's sweet. Thank you."

She left, and Law focused on the examination table with such embarrassed determination that had he been part of the candle-fire bet, he surely would've won.

* * *

Amidst the shattered glass and the lilac fumes that filled the atrium, obscuring all from vision, Spade felt someone grab her by the waist and pull her to a dark corner, underneath a staircase. She could barely register what was happening around her. It was slowly sinking in that her limbs now obeyed her consciousness and not the commands of Doflamingo's invisible strings. She willed her fingers to flex and they did; she wiggled her toes and much to her relief, they moved. The person holding her was warm and familiar. She sank into the body, tired and unwilling to move.

Spade heard cloth rustling behind her, and a black jacket with the Hearts Jolly Roger stitched in red was thrown over her. She knew to whom those hands belonged—she'd watched the DEATH tattooed on those fingers brush her skin only to be followed by excruciating pain too many times now—

Her heart rate skyrocketed and she pulled feebly away from the warmth she'd desperately wanted to sink into. A hand pulled her back firmly and she cringed away from the touch.

"Spade," Law whispered. "It's me."

Her body was running on its barest, most primal urges at this point. She wanted to flee or fight—either was fine, really, as long as she could stop this fear and secure her survival, but the tiny withering voice that had kept her sane through all of Doflamingo's torments rang in her head.

 _Focus. Clones can't talk_.

Spade closed her eyes, drowning out the sight of Law's hands and his Jolly Roger. Doflamingo had made the purpose of his torture very clear: he wanted the visual of Law to be associated with crippling pain, and he had been successful because the mere imagination of Law in her field of vision made Spade terrified. She felt sick to her stomach, because it was a terrible feeling, wanting someone so badly who registered as a life-threatening fear to every cell in her body.

"Spade," Law said, this time more urgently as shouts and explosions echoed through the hall. "Are you awake?"

She gripped the arm encircling her, welcoming his heat, an obvious factor that had been missing from the clone as well.

"It's you," she managed. "It's really you."

"Yes," and she did not miss the tinge of impatience in Law's voice. "It's me. Stay with me, Spade. I need you to focus if we are going to get out of here alive."

Maybe it was the Indigo Ring pill that she'd just swallowed, but Spade was feeling less tired and instead angrier by the passing second. The unending pain that had sunk into her very marrow was beginning to ease and disappear, though now it was supplanted by a seething hatred and desire to harm. Without pain, Spade did not fear—she was furious at Law, the real one, not the clone one, and the edge of impatience he spoke with did not help.

She reached around and grabbed his throat, grip tightening as she turned and pushed him onto the ground.

Law looked well, albeit exhausted. His dark circles were significantly worse and he bore the remainders of some deep lacerations that Spade's body was also familiar with, but the otherwise _wholeness_ he exhibited made Spade's vice grip around his windpipe constrict.

Spade saw him fully now and she had to give Doflamingo so much credit because his clone really bore no difference from the Law in front of her. It only reaffirmed her belief that the two were truly too obsessed with each other, and Spade was a mere tool caught in between them, worn and used until she splintered and broke.

Her anger and her fear merged now, and the tiny voice of her conscience diminished into nothingness as Spade's instincts overran the little cortical understanding she had left.

"Spade," Law gasped, his face discoloring with his lack of oxygenation.

Her wrists were still bound in sea-stone, but Spade only needed Haki to snap Law's neck in two.

A Room surrounded them and Law disappeared from under her, replaced by a shard of glass. She whipped around, or perhaps it only seemed like that to her, because by the time Law returned to her field of vision, his face was returning to a normal color.

"I don't know what he did to you," he said harshly, "but there's no time for you to be confused. I am here to help you, Spade."

 _Yes,_ the voice in her head said with renewed energy, _he's here to help, and you said this yourself, Law's not about social warmth, he's about cold efficiency_. _You know that. This is who he is_.

And Spade did know that, and she was okay with it when she was sane and whole, laughing and unbroken. This was how she and Law were similar, because they knew what it meant to be singularly focused on a task and that task right now was her safe retrieval. She knew this. She understood this.

But how she felt now reminded her of her time in Impel Down, when she could barely see or think straight and all she knew was a bare gut sensation that she would die soon. And back then, even though it'd been a useless gesture and a waste of the little energy he had left, she remembered Ace reaching out and grasping her hand, a quiet consolation Spade hadn't realized she'd desperately wanted until she had it.

 _You can't compare them like this_.

"Spade!" Law said angrily.

"Don't bother with your melodrama, Law. It's useless."

Spade felt her body be taken out of her control again, and she stepped backward with dread, slowly until her back came in contact with another body. Doflamingo's long fingers curled around her neck, and she felt his breath against her nape.

"I thought I saw your Room," Doflamingo said silkily. "Blackbeard's distracted with Aokiji now, but when someone stole Skye Spade from right under me…I knew it had to be you."

Law looked between the two of them, gray eyes like ice. His worry was unmistakable, and this observation settled into Spade's stomach as comfortably as a hot meal.

 _They aren't the same people_ , that voice said, and it was strange, how that voice was starting to sound like Ace. She really was going insane. _Focus, Skye,_ he said.

"Let her go," Law demanded.

"Oh, I will. Are you sure you want me to, though? If my eyes did not deceive me, I believe she tried to take your head just now."

"What did you do to her?"

Doflamingo sneered. "I think the better question is…what did _you_ do?"

Spade felt the invisible threads loosen and understood the role she was meant to play. She lunged for Law, Haki brimming at her fingertips and with convincing savagery as Law skidded to the side, eyes wide and confused as he dodged. There was no need for him to; Spade intended to miss him, and Law did not fail to notice this detail. Spade whipped around, her Kairouseki-bound hands held perhaps a bit too obviously in front of her as she made a gesture of attempting to wrap the chains around Law's neck. Again, Law dodged, and his eyes narrowed now in understanding.

Unspoken synchrony had always been a major advantage for Ace of Spades. It was a little difficult to not be a good duo when her and Ace's Devil's Fruits were such natural complements, and it was likely this fact that gave Ace his resolution that the two of them were simply meant to be.

Spade and Law had never fought together before. They were both over-thinkers, one a lone agent and the other a team leader. They created plans independently, plans that surely would conflict in most circumstances due to stylistic differences and perhaps more. But Spade and Law knew each other well enough, and they'd learned multiple different strategies from merely observing each other in combat. Details and subtlety were always lost on Ace, but Law was a very different story.

More importantly, Law understood Doflamingo down to his very core, and her imprisonment had shed a good degree of light on Spade as well. Powerful men were all similar to a degree. For men who loved to pontificate when they were powerful—and Doflamingo certainly fit in this genre—their arrogance was so blinding that they never considered the possibility of their plans going awry.

Two signs were all Law needed for confirmation. When Spade dove at Law a third time, Law remained still briefly. Spade appeared behind him and looped the Kairouseki chain around his neck, but just before the metal touched his skin, Law switched his and Doflamingo's locations. Spade pulled the chain, feeling with satisfaction the sensation of Doflamingo's choked noise of surprise as the metal tugged against his skin.

"You're good at what you do. Every part of me wants to kill Law," Spade said quietly in his ear, "just like you wanted. But I think I'd rather kill you first."

"You bitch," wheezed Doflamingo. "Don't think you can overpower me with your insignificance!"

Even without access to his Devil's Fruit, Doflamingo was monstrously strong. His Haki swelled rapidly like an angered puffer sea king and his fingers pried the chain away from his throat.

"Law!" Spade yelled.

She should've saved her breath. Law's quick swipes removed Dofalmingo's arms from his torso, and eerily against the boundaries of the Room, they glowed as they floated. Doflamingo's Haki burst forth, so powerful that Law had to take a step back. The break in concentration caused the Room to flicker, and that was the only opening Doflamingo needed.

With a roar, he threw his head back and bucked forward, intending to swing Spade over him. She refused to let go—the full effects of the Indigo Ring had settled in, and she felt awake, alive, and furious. She tightened her hold with her own Haki, crossing her arms to constrict the chains as she fought against Doflamingo's Armament Haki, the only thing preventing him from being choked to death.

"Spade, let me handle him," Law said, visibly anxious. "You don't have the energy."

But Spade _did_. Her "pitiable pittance" of Haki, as Aokiji always liked to call it, did not seem so pitiable at the moment, and everything felt different. Power was flowing through every pore in her body, every inch of her skin broken by threads and whips, every cell screaming as her Haki clashed with Doflamingo's. She did not want Law to _handle_ Doflamingo—she had been handled by that monster enough, she refused to be his plaything in his battle with Law, an afterthought for both of them as long as they stood over the other's corpse.

"Spade!" Law shouted warningly.

Spade ignored him, her hold tightening. With a scream, she straightened out her body, twisted, and in a burst of Haki that exceeded her known reserve, threw Doflamingo over her shoulder. The slam crashed him through the floor. As smoke billowed through the atrium, Spade straightened, breathing harshly as she looked at the oddly-shaped crater in front of her.

"Spade," Law said again, appearing beside her. He touched her shoulder gently, and she slapped him away.

"What?" she snapped. "You want him to yourself?"

Law looked startled with her ferocity, but visibly bit back a retort.

"Here," he said stiffly, reaching for her wrists.

She jerked back from him, but he seemed to have anticipated this response and grabbed her hand tightly.

"Hold still," he said coolly, inserting the key into her cuffs and letting them drop to the ground.

Her Logia powers returned in a literal breath of fresh air. She disappeared into her ephemeral form, and Law allowed her several seconds of silence as she remained invisible.

"He'll be up momentarily," he said finally. "Are you well enough to fight?"

"I'm fine."

"…This Haki is new. You don't know your limits and you're mortally wounded. If you—"

"I wasn't kidding when I said that every part of me wants to kill you," she cut in. "I don't need your concern."

The look Law gave her—or at least, the place she shimmered—was pained and tender and temporary. If Law was offended, he showed it for less than a second before his customary frown took its place.

"Very well."

 _You hurt him._

 _I know_ , a new, scathing, incensed voice snapped back. _I want to._

Something in her had broken, and despite trying her best to process through Doflamingo's careful workings, the Heavenly Yaksha had succeeded.

She was just a lesson to be taught, and Doflamingo had taught it well. It was just up to Law whether or not he would learn the lesson after all.

* * *

"Oi, where the fuck are you two sneakin' off to?"

Kid turned around to find the Hearts Pirate weapons girl pointing her rifle in his and Killer's direction. The two of them were poised at the edge of their ship and had been eying the rescue boat. Less than an hour had passed since Bonney and some of the Heart Pirates had snuck into the Blackbeard base, but Kid was already antsy.

Kid rolled his eyes at the gun. "Y'know that scrap of junk ain't gonna do shit to me, right?"

"Yeah but I gotta huge ass polar bear to back me up," snarled Ikkaku as the giant bear navigator nodded menacingly beside her. "Cap'n told us to wait."

"He told _you_ to wait," corrected Kid. "He can't tell me to do shit."

"Bonney already went inside with Penguin and they'll give you the signal for when they want you to destroy the production machinery!"

"And I don't fancy playin' the waiting game," he interrupted. "Besides, can't help but think Trafalgar knows me better than to think I'd actually just sit here. C'mon, Killer. Let's go."

Kid heard Ikkaku pull the trigger and flicked his finger in her direction. The rifle bent in half and the bullet dislodged into the air. Ikkaku cursed and the bear growled, but as much as Kid would love to see how well Killer would fare against a Mink polar bear, they were pressed for time.

The two Kid pirates jumped over the edge and landed in the rescue boat. Killer seized the paddles and began to row them toward the base.

"What's your plan, Kid?"

"We'll see what the situation is when we're inside," his captain replied. "If we can take out Blackbeard, that'd be huge for us, but I don't wanna get caught up in whatever mess Trafalgar's makin' with the Revolutionaries. We ain't got the fightin' power for that."

"Glad to see you're thinking clearly," Killer said, audibly relieved.

"Everyone wants Skye Spade right now. We could kidnap her."

"That's a _terrible_ idea."

"Why not?"

"What the fuck do you think Marco's gonna do to us if we kidnap her? Plus, what's she got that we need?"

"What then?" said Kid, annoyed. "I don't wanna actually just _do_ what Trafalgar wants us to."

Killer shrugged, his standards exceedingly low since their captivity. "At least he wants us to destroy stuff."

* * *

Law narrowly dodged a thread bullet as he replaced a rapidly spinning sheet of metal plummeting toward him with a feather on Doflamingo's coat. He heard Doflamingo curse with only minimal satisfaction, as the metal had actually been sent by Spade. It was clear that she was becoming progressively indiscriminate with who her tornadoes were actually affecting, and it worried Law. Since being freed from the Kaioruseki, she remained in her wind-bound form exclusively, and it was growing increasingly difficult to track her movements.

The three of them had taken over the atrium in their fight, with no sign of Aokiji or Blackbeard in sight. Law wanted to end things quickly before Spade burned out her life force. His team was already stationed outside with an escape vessel, Penguin and Bonney were searching for the Polar Tang, and all Law needed to do was get Spade to safety.

That was all.

He could let Doflamingo go, he could let all the Indigo Ring pills go, he could put everything about this terrible ordeal behind him.

He just needed to get Spade.

Law gritted his teeth and deflected Doflamingo's whips with Kikoku. Spade was fully materialized to his right, Doflamingo was in front of him, and he knew which one he needed to dive for.

Law lunged for the right, but Spade chose that moment to evaporate one more time and become a roaring cyclone that pushed both Law and Doflamingo to the sidelines. A smaller whirlwind appeared right where the Heavenly Yaksha landed, twisting his defensive threads into knots. Spade appeared right in front of him and solidified only her right arm, overflowing with this newfound Haki, and plunged it straight into Doflamingo's chest.

"Don't get cocky!"

Doflamingo melted into a pile of threads that then reanimated to encapsulate Spade, who immediately dematerialized again. She reappeared high in the air, eyes cold and face expressionless as the winds surrounding her increased in speed. Law grew almost panicky—there was no way Spade would last much longer while expending her Devil's Fruit power at this level. He needed to redirect her, distract her…

Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed an unmistakable red.

Law teleported in front of Killer and Kid immediately.

"Shit," muttered Kid. "Yeah, yeah, we're here early—"

"You're fine," said Law. "Perfect, even."

Kid blinked in shock. "What?"

"I need you to distract Doflamingo," Law said impatiently. "Fight him, kill him, something. I need to extract Miss Spade from this situation—she will not last much longer."

Kid surveyed him suspiciously. "Don't you want to kill Doflamingo, after everything that happened?"

Law did not have time to dwell on Kid's odd consideration. He did not know how much Kid had picked up about his acute stress disorder and hoped it was little, but something told him that Kid understood more than he let on. Law could only be grateful that he had not used it as fodder for ridicule.

Law shook his head. "My priority is Miss Spade. Doflamingo is…collateral."

"Fine," Killer said. "We'll fight him."

"Fuckin' great." Kid genuinely looked delighted.

Law did not waste any more time and directed his attention back to Spade. With a deep breath, he stretched out his Room and, bracing himself, teleported into the eye of her tornado, where he was certain she'd be.

She was floating amidst her defenses in a half-solid form. At his appearance, she startled so badly she became completely invisible.

"I won't hurt you," he said, holding up his hands. "Please don't be afraid of me."

"What are you doing," she said. "We're in the middle of a fight."

"No. We're leaving. You'll burn out at this rate."

"I'm fine. I don't hurt."

"The Indigo Ring just masks your pain. It doesn't change the fact you're an inch from the grave, Spade." He stared at the gleaming shine where he assumed she was. "I know that you want to kill him. Believe me." Law inhaled deeply. "I understand completely. But I am here to save you. That's all I care about. So please let me."

A long silence stretched. If Law stared hard enough, he thought he could see her green eyes peering back at him, wide and yearning.

"How do I know you won't hurt me?"

Her words were quiet and frightened, childish almost. It sounded nothing like her, but Law had heard this tone from Spade several times before, when she was at her most vulnerable and consequently her most honest.

The accusation cut deeply, and Law bit back an acidic response that he knew was out of place.

"I won't hurt you," he whispered. "I swear to you…that I will never do you any harm. Now, or ever. So please believe me."

She did not answer.

"Spade?"

Law was blasted out of the cyclone so suddenly that he slammed into the wall and slid to the floor. Head spinning, he staggered to his feet and saw tornadoes expand and cover the entire hall. It reminded him of a scene he'd only seen on Den-Den video before, during the Battle of Marineford after Ace had been killed right in front of Spade, and she'd verifiably lost her mind.

"Spade!" he shouted, Room created so he could stand his ground. "Spade, stop!"

Kid was currently fighting Doflamingo in the stupidest manner possible—by uprooting all the heavy machinery into a giant conglomerate arm that he was slamming in Doflamingo's direction. Spade tore through what remained of the hall, heavy railings and slivers of glass gathered in a whirlwind. Law felt helpless—Spade was not listening, and there was no way he would be able to get close to her.

The barest frustration bristled in his blood; what was he giving up Doflamingo for? If Spade wanted to fight him so badly, then by all means, Law could take advantage of that. He'd done his due diligence and had tried to save her, but if Spade didn't want to be saved, then that was her prerogative and who was he to stop her?

He could not deny that a small part of this frustration was rooted in resentment. He did not know what exactly Doflamingo had done to turn Spade against him, but her reactions to him made Law feel cruel. Never mind that his confession had been in a dream—the fact that he'd confessed at all, in any time or space continuum, was a feat that left him as exposed and vulnerable as an infant. He did not want to _feel_ anything; he wanted to kill Doflamingo because that had been his goal all along. This new feeling, this helpless _fear_ was unfamiliar and unwarranted.

But emotions could never be controlled in their existence, only in their expression.

Law willed himself calm. _Think. There must be a way to get through to her_.

A column of flames pierced through the ceiling, showering everyone beneath them in rubble. Dealing with a crumbling base was already the least of Law's concerns; he emerged above the shattered stones, appropriately venomous, only to come face-to-face with a sheepish Sabo as he straightened up.

"Sorry," he said cheerily, as if he had not narrowly killed Law, and also did not have blood pouring from his forehead. "Still working on controlling this Devil's Fruit. You okay there, Law?"

"I'm fine," Law said tersely. "You guys made it."

"Yeah, got here as fast as we could. Dragon and Aokiji are fighting Blackbeard now." Sabo's eyes landed on the giant tornado. "Is that Spade? Is she okay?"

"Evidently not."

Law was not in the mood to recapitulate all of the events leading up to his current shitshow of a situation, but Sabo peered at him concernedly.

"Anything I can do to help?"

Law opened his mouth to respond scathingly, that no, unless Sabo had a way to convince a traumatized woman that Law would not hurt her, that it was better for her to retreat from the fight than try and kill the bastard who had tortured her for weeks, Sabo was not of any help.

But then Law remembered whom Sabo's Fruit powers used to belong to, and he cursed himself for not coming to this conclusion earlier.

As he explained the plan to Sabo, it struck him that perhaps he had unconsciously considered this solution long ago. Speaking it aloud meant that in this long, drawn-out, and ultimately unnecessary competition for Spade's affection, Law finally conceded defeat to a dead man.

* * *

Spade knew that she was shutting down. Blackbeard's base and the Indigo Ring production factory began to fizzle out of her sight, gradually replaced by a much more welcoming setting: her transitory point. The old wood, sauna-like humidity, the scent of smoke and sweat blinked several times between chopped scenes of fighting Doflamingo before finally sharpening into focus, and Spade was back in the place she longed to be the most.

She was sitting on the bed this time, healthy and whole. She drew the light covers around her and leaned against the headboard, basking in the sunlight like a lazy cat. Ace laughed at her, and she smiled at the sight of him.

"You always looked best in the light," he grinned as he sat beside her.

"On the crow's nest," she agreed. "Sun and fresh air, what more could you ask for?"

"Not much, I guess." Like always, he draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close so he could press his lips to her head. "You did great, Skye."

"Thanks. Can you take me to go now?"

Ace smiled and it looked sad. "That's not what this place is, babe."

"What?"

"I know you think this is the place you stop before you…die. It ain't. It's just a place for you to be safe while…while I try to take care o' some things on the outside."

"Like what? How?"

"How d'you think Law knew where to find you?" he said wryly.

Spade stared at him. "How…that doesn't make any sense, Ace."

Ace shrugged. "I told you, Skye. Fate's a thing. And I'm always with you." He interlaced their fingers, but Spade was struck by a strange expectation of seeing DEATH tattooed on his skin. Ace seemed to be able to read her mind, but he didn't mention Law anymore. "I don't want you to die, all right? It's not time, and you got more to do. I know you're tired right now though, so just hold still."

Spade unconsciously closed her eyes and obeyed, wrapped in Ace's profile that was always borderline too-hot, and the sensation of his solid body faded away, replaced by flames. Spade did not jerk away, scorched. Instead, she melted into the fire, the heat comforting the wind she now was, making the two indistinguishable.

When she opened her eyes, she was back in the Blackbeard base, surrounded in Ace's Hiken as it pummeled Doflamingo into the ground. The air was filled with his screams, but all Spade could hear was,

 _Told ya I'd kill him if I could._

Spade smiled, and then she saw nothing else.

* * *

 _free talk_ :

 _happy new year!_

 _apologies for the wait. one of my resolutions is to finish this fic this year, so let's see if i can manage that. thank you for your support and your patience._

 _this chapter is a seminal one for several reasons. there are a couple themes colliding in this chapter, most focally the constant comparison of law and ace that both spade and law are guilty of. mirroring this comparison is the conflict of Fate and free will; spade has mentioned multiple times that she doesn't believe in Fate, and one would think that with law and her similarities, law would feel the same. but law's fixation on the will of D and his faith in luffy (in canon and in this fic) suggest otherwise, giving law another layer of contradiction: a man who loves control but flourishes amidst chaos, and a genius doctor who is quite close to playing god but is more than willing to acknowledge higher powers. it is therefore a tad ironic that in law's concession of defeat to ace, he unravels an odd scenario: is his plan of sabo rescuing spade a product of his own action, or of ace's intervention?_

 _i have no idea if that made any sense, but that was my semi-thought-process with this chapter._

 _i hope you enjoyed, and please review! wishing you all a wonderful year._

 _xoxo,  
m.n_


	23. Chasm

**Chapter 23: Chasm**

Ikkaku's lower lip was nearly split from being chewed excessively. She was a good soldier, she knew how to follow orders, but it did not make being part of the "Wait until I give you the sign" group any easier while her captain was currently located in a base that was exploding from fire pillars, earthquakes, and giant sheets of ice all at the same time. Shachi was focused on the view through a pair of binoculars pressed tightly up to his sunglasses. Bepo sniffed the dense air once in a while, as if he would be able to distinguish Law's scent from the chaos. The ship rocked uneasily as the waves grew more turbulent, and above them, the dark clouds loomed lower and ominously.

"It's gonna rain soon," Bepo noted.

"How long?" said Shachi.

"Less than an hour."

A gargantuan column of fire suddenly burst through the center of the base, amplified by a howling gale.

"That's Spade," said Ikkaku, fiddling with her weapon nervously.

"Stop doing that," Uni said suddenly.

It took Ikkaku several seconds to realize that he was staring at her. "Stop what?"

"You keep toying with the safety of your gun," he answered. "Leave it off. You'll waste time turning it off when you need it."

Ikkaku understood and stuffed her hand in her pocket.

"Don't do that either," said Uni, bored. "You'll lose time getting your hand in position."

"Then you do it!" Ikkaku snapped.

Uni waved his right hand, where the stump of his index finger remained tightly bandaged. "Can't. Lost my trigger finger, remember?"

She chewed her tongue, cursing herself but refusing to play into his mocking pity party. "Right, well even when you had it, you were always a shitty marksman."

"That's true," said Uni blandly. His weapon of choice, a broad axe with an edge lined with Kairouseki, rested easily in his left hand. Lucky for Uni, he was ambidextrous, and the loss of his index finger impacted his combat ability very little. It did, however, require some adjustment to his surgical technique, which Ikkaku knew bothered him more than any effect on his fighting capability.

"How long have the Kid pirates been gone?" she asked.

"Almost half an hour."

"Okay," she breathed.

"Captain's fine, Ikkaku."

"I know, I know, just…he's been odd. Snappy. He's moody but I've never seen him like this before."

"After what he went through, can you blame him?"

"You went through it too. And Shachi and Jean Bart."

"Not the same," said Shachi. "He thinks what happened was his fault."

"But it wasn't!" she said angrily. "And we've told him that a million times but he won't listen."

Behind his mask, Uni let out a long sigh. "Things are different when you're the captain."

"But—"

"He's been sailing for almost fourteen years and he's never lost a crewmate." Uni's beady eyes were black and shiny, like beetles. "We've been through many dangers, but nothing we've fought through compares to being at the mercy of Doflamingo. I think this is the first time since he became captain that he may truly lose someone he loves."

"But he didn't," Ikkaku muttered. "We're all alive, so he did his job. He has nothing to feel guilty about."

Uni gave her one last lingering look. "I wasn't talking about us."

* * *

 _Nine, ten, eleven, times six, sixty-six. Slow but not completely abnormal. Unresponsive but pupils equal and reactive, no signs of basilar skull fracture, even chest rise_.

"Is she okay?" Sabo hopped over and rested a what Law assumed was supposed to be comforting hand on Law's shoulder, but instead it just made the hairs on Law's neck prickle.

"Don't know yet," Law said shortly, palpating Spade's extremities for circulation and any obvious broken bones.

"Right. I'm not a doctor, so…" Sabo gestured to the giant crater in the ceiling that he'd created. "I'm gonna go help Dragon with Blackbeard."

"Yeah, go." And because Law knew that it was petty to feel any kind of resentment toward Sabo for saving Spade when he could not, he managed a very rigid, "Thanks for your help."

"Of course. It's what Ace would've wanted."

With a final clap on Law's back, Sabo disappeared in a blinding blaze that left Law with likely minor burns. Law continued his assessment, biting back the nauseating feeling of helplessness and humiliation that Doflamingo had carefully cultivated. He refused to let his mind wander any further down that memory lane.

 _Skin turgor decreased, increased capillary refill, she's severely dehydrated and likely has been this way for a long time. Acute kidney injury, too much skin degradation from these wounds, she could be in septic shock superimposed on hypovolemic shock…_

Another figure joined him and let out a low whistle. Since only one person would be rude enough to make such a sound over a near corpse, Law didn't bother looking up.

"She looks bad," said Kid.

"Still alive?" Killer asked more appropriately.

"Still alive," Law confirmed. He wrapped Spade more tightly in his increasingly filthy jacket and picked her up gently. "Penguin's supposed to be looking for the Polar Tang. We have better medical facilities onboard, and…"

Law turned around to find both Killer and Kid blocking his path, their arms crossed in a ridiculously macho manner.

"What?" snarled Law.

"Saved the girl, our job's done," said Kid breezily.

"You didn't do jack shit, you imbecile."

"Distracted that flamingo for long enough," was the sordid response. "She's alive in your arms, I'll count that as mission completed. 'Course, if she dies later, that ain't my problem. Tell Marco we did what we came here to do."

"Fine," Law said brusquely. "Then get out of the way so I can ensure we didn't come here for no reason."

He made a move to walk past but Kid pushed him back roughly by the shoulder. Law's Room shone reflexively, but Kid did not look threatened.

"You got your Room, I got mine full of scrap metal and more," said Kid, gesturing to the trash heap that used to be Blackbeard's factory. "You wanna fight right now, Trafalgar? I guarantee I'll win, especially when you gotta deal with her."

"What do you want?" Law said dangerously.

"The ship we came on," answered Killer. "Tell your men to disembark."

"We need that ship to leave, you fools," Law said heatedly. "It's also an impossible vessel for only two people to man."

"We'll handle it," Kid said, unfazed. "Call your men now, or I'm gonna stab both you and that dead girl through. You may wanna fight, but you sure you wanna delay her treatment any longer?"

Law uttered a million curses under his breath but retrieved the Den-Den Mushi from his jeans. Bepo picked up immediately.

"Bepo speaking."

"It's me. I need you all to disembark." Law surveyed his rival Supernova with distaste. "Eustass wants the ship."

"What? Then what'll we leave on?!"

"Captain!"

Penguin ran up to them, a familiar black duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"Found the Polar Tang," he said breathlessly. "Brought you your medical kit, just in case."

"Good man," murmured Law. "We have our sub, Bepo. Let Eustass have the vessel. Meet us at…"

"Western port," Penguin said swiftly. "About half a kilometer from where we docked the rescue boat."

"Aye-aye," Bepo said, then hung up.

"Great," said Kid, pleased. "Then I'm gonna make my way outta here, see ya at One Piece, suckers."

"That's it? Ship-jacking in the middle of a battle?" Penguin looked at Kid like he was the biggest barnacle he'd ever seen. "Classy."

"You—"

"Let's go, Kid." Killer steered his captain away from an impending fight. "See you never, Hearts."

Law didn't even wait to watch them leave. "Show me to the Polar Tang, Penguin."

They set off at a swift trot while Penguin debriefed Law of the situation outside.

"Aokiji's facing Blackbeard, Dragon and some Revolutionaries are dealing with the Titanic Ten. Bonney's fighting Lafitte."

Penguin was a fairly laid-back guy most of the time, but there was a reason he was Law's first-mate. The two of them were impressively emotionally detached when it came to high-pressure situations, and it allowed Penguin to be decisive in dire times. His report was short, sweet, and essential.

"We're sort of losing. While the Kid Pirates run like cowards."

Mostly essential. What separated Penguin and Law was an additional layer of emotional stunting that Law was fairly certain only he possessed.

"It's fine," he said thinly. "Eustass is more trouble than he's worth. Demanding only a ship is better than I anticipated. His brutish strength is helpful only if I'm in the position to manipulate him, and I have my hands full."

Penguin glanced uneasily down at Spade. "Literally."

It was hot and humid outside and the sand filled Law's shoes the instant he sank into it. The low rolls of thunder crackled in the distance and lightning flickered overhead. An inopportune storm was brewing, and the two Heart Pirates both noted it with dread.

"Wish she were awake to calm that shit down before it starts," Penguin muttered with a slight nod at Spade's still body.

"She wouldn't be able to do anything about it," Law said. ("I can't _unmake_ something that already exists," Spade had said rather incredulously when Law had asked her to calm an irritating windstorm several days from Raijin. "How do you think Logia powers work? You think Ace could've un-burned shit? Would've saved us a lot of money on ships when he accidentally set them on fire when he snored.")

Law Roomed them into the Polar Tang the moment it came into view, a bright ray of yellow in an increasingly darkening landscape. Penguin let out a quiet noise of content the moment his feet touched the familiar steel, but Law did not take the time to appreciate finally being back in his ship. He placed Spade immediately on the operating table and began to pull out the necessary supplies from the surrounding cabinets. Some drugs were missing, notably the remaining vials of platypus venom that Law had been experimenting for its hyperalgesia effects. Law knew what they'd been used for—Doflamingo had always been interested in medicine and pharmacology for all the wrong reasons, but considering that Law had used the venom to enhance Burgess's torture, he was the pot calling the kettle black.

Law returned to Spade's side with several bags of saline and units of O-negative blood. Penguin had placed one IV but was having difficulty with a second.

"She's so," he gave the tiny vein an aggravated stab, "fucking dry."

"Room." Law isolated a vein in Spade's upper forearm, close to the phoenix tattoo, and inserted the IV. "It's been weeks since Punk Hazard, of course she's dry. Start sepsis protocol, transfuse the units, just stabilize her until we get out of this fucking place. I'm going to check on the rest of the crew."

"Aye-aye."

Law left, his mind buzzing but focused. Mission accomplished, Spade was retrieved, now all he needed to do was get the rest of his crew aboard the Polar Tang, perhaps find Bonney out of courtesy, and they would leave. Law wanted nothing to do with Blackbeard, the Revolutionaries, or even Aokiji. Doflamingo was dead, maybe, burned to a crisp.

But he hadn't checked the body.

Law Roomed back onto the beach, skin burning with the need to verify the corpse. _Don't. That wasn't your goal. You came to save Spade, you got her. Just get out._

But he could not stop the little inkling in his brain… _what if it was just a clone?_

"Captain!"

The rest of his crew ran up the beach towards him, led by Bepo waving excitedly.

"Captain! I punched Kid in the face!"

Law stared, distracted. "What?"

"We passed them on the way here!" Bepo shouted. "He said something about you being a furry so I punched him in the face!"

"It was fucking great!" whooped Shachi.

Ikkaku sported a wide grin. "You okay, Captain?"

"I'm fine," Law said, unable to hold back the smile creeping onto his face. That inkling in his mind diminished: _Doflamingo was never your goal—_ this _was your goal, this crew, this family_.

"How is Miss Spade?" asked Jean Bart seriously.

"She's alive."

Uni pushed back his sleeves and cracked his knuckles. "I'll start with primary assessment, Captain, we can talk about your operating plans—"

The next thing Law knew was an excruciating pain in his shoulder, and his mind went into overdrive before the danger fully registered. He reflexively tried to create a Room but he couldn't, which meant the bullet was Kairouseki. No Room meant all Law had was Haki; he took a step back which meant significant force from bullet's distance traveled—

"Captain!" Ikkaku screamed.

Multiple bodies surrounded his instantly. Bepo held Law from behind and they stood protectively around him. Law uttered a string of curses as he tried to remove the bullet, left hand shaking as he touched his injured shoulder and was greeted by the wet stick of warm blood.

"Kairouseki?" A small pocketknife appeared in Uni's hand.

"Yeah," Law breathed. "Yank it out."

Uni did not waste time with an, "Are you sure?" He dug into Law's shoulder with the knife and Law bit back a scream, conscious that the sniper was nearby and unwilling to give them that kind of satisfaction.

"Ikkaku," barked Law, keeping his head on important matters. "Eyes."

"It's Van Auger," she said after a tense pause. "I've got him, I think, half a kilometer away, locked, loaded." She pulled the trigger, then cursed. "Dodged. He's moving, coming this way!"

"Uni," Law said through gritted teeth.

"Got it," Uni said impassively, raising the silver bullet.

"Hold onto it," snarled Law. "I'm going to send it back through his head."

His Room expanded and Law followed the line of sight that Ikkaku's rifle provided. Van Auger was fast, barely visible to the naked eye, but Law had spent a long time training his eye to see things that normal people couldn't see, like invisible threads that could control your every move.

With a vindictive flex of his fingers, Law slammed Van Auger into the beach. Jean Bart lunged forward, his sword raised for execution, but the Titanic Ten captain reacted before Jean Bart entered range. He disappeared the moment he got to his feet, and before Law could turn around, he heard Bepo roar in pain.

Trafalgar Law was known for a devilish temper that he knew how to keep in terrifying check until he chose to unleash it, preferably in the form of slow death by torture. His crew could only recall two times when Law had lost control out of quick anger: once, when following a lead about Joker, the informant had led Law on a month-long goose chase of an oddly elusive underground gambling ring only for the informant to belatedly realize that he'd misread "Poker" as "Joker"—Law hadn't killed the guy but had Roomed out both his eyeballs; second was when some zookeepers on the island of Nolym shot Bepo with an elephant tranquilizer when he'd been canvassing the new island as they waited for the Log Pose to set. They'd hauled Bepo away as their newest exhibition. Law had stormed into the zoo, recovered his navigator, sliced up the zookeepers, and fed them to their tigers live.

The moral of the story was to say that Law's sore spots were Doflamingo and Bepo, and no one fucked with Bepo except for his crew.

Law whipped around, found Van Auger perched on top of the Polar Tang, and Roomed him into the midst of the Heart Pirates, right in front of the howling Bepo. Law rammed the sheathed Kikoku right in Van Auger's throat, while Ikkaku pressed her rifle to his temple.

"Your power," hissed the Blackbeard sniper, "is ridiculous."

"Eat him, Bepo," said Shachi.

"No time," Law said curtly, though Van Auger deserved it. "Kill him, Ikkaku."

"Aw," grinned Ikkaku as she loaded her rifle, "but—"

A force suddenly blasted all the Hearts off their feet, and the beach split into two beneath them as an earthquake shot from the epicenter of the base all the way to the island shore, cracking the island in two. Law found himself flying through the air, his body ripped with the sensation of millions of stones crashing onto his bones. The pressure was unbearable; he felt his mouth fill with blood and expelled it consciously, avoiding risk of aspiration. He amazingly maintained his Room and, trying with every ounce of strength he had not to faint, found his crewmates as their bodies flew past him. He counted each as he transported them into the Polar Tang one by one: Bepo, Shachi, Jean Bart, Van Auger was nowhere to be found, shit, Uni and Ikkaku were falling down and Law was flying up—

"Room!" he bellowed, head screaming and nauseous, but he transported lower into the chasm of the split beach, trying to get in range of Ikkaku's outstretched hand. "Ikkaku!"

She did not respond, just stared blankly up at him as her rifle fell from her grasp. That wasn't like Ikkaku; her weapon was an extension of her.

Law Roomed one more time, lower, grabbed her hand, still warm, good, then Roomed back up and grabbed Uni along the way, and he did not stop until they appeared back on solid land, on the beach, with Ikkaku in his arms and Uni grasping his injured shoulder.

"Ikkaku," Law said, placing her in front of him and ignoring how badly his hand was shaking as he felt for her pulse. "Ikkaku, talk to me!"

But there was no response, and there was no pulse, just Ikkaku's glassy eyes and the barest traces of her last laugh and her bushy brown hair and orange headband seeped in blood as it spilled from her skull.

"Uni," Law said, looking up at his first assist as if he were searching for a diagnosis beyond the obvious, "she—"

Uni wasn't looking at Law, he was looking somewhere far away, and all he shouted was, "Captain!" before diving in front of Law, and Law heard the thud-thud-thud of three bullets and blood splattered all over Law's face and Ikkaku's body. Uni fell against them, and Law felt that sickly sensation spill over his entire front as Uni breathed raggedly in his ear and then croaked one last time, "Captain."

And then he was still.

* * *

Throughout his correspondence with Spade, Aokiji had always shamelessly probed about the whereabouts of the Whitebeard Pirates, their future plans, and exactly what Marco the Phoenix was up to. Tight-lipped and irascible, Spade iterated over and over again that information about the Whitebeards was off the table, and that if he'd asked again, she'd shove his next pomegranate martini up his ass, which apparently would be a much cheaper way to get drunk.

It was therefore a huge surprise that Aokiji met Marco face-to-face directly after the Payback War, when Marco was still recovering on the island Spade served as Ava the bartender. News of the Whitebeards' overwhelming defeat led to wild rumors abound, that Blackbeard's earthquake had shattered through Jozu's diamond, that Marco the Phoenix had been ripped in two when Blackbeard neutralized his Phoenix powers. Seeing Marco very much alive and whole, albeit exhausted, was therefore a comforting surprise. Spade was thoroughly displeased with Marco's choice to reveal himself, but in retrospect, Aokiji recognized it as a conscious move on Marco's part—alerting Aokiji of his whereabouts was a valuable bit of information that Marco expected payback for.

"You look like shit," Kuzan said bluntly as Marco slid into the creaky barstool next to him.

"Fuck off."

"You need to sleep," Spade hissed, bringing a hand up to Marco's forehead. "Why are you here?"

"You know I've never trusted this asshole," said Marco, eyes flickering over to Aokiji.

"All the more reason not to show yourself!"

"What if I'm worried 'bout you, eh?"

"Sweet," she snapped, "but unnecessary. I can handle Aokiji."

"Rude," Kuzan murmured, "and blatantly false."

Spade looked pointedly at Aokiji's drink in his hand, and he quickly placed his glass down on the bar.

"How're you feeling?" she asked Marco.

"Fine."

"Please, I have told you multiple times that there is no purpose in me harming the Whitebeards," said Aokiji dryly, "though I'm sure Skye has never conveyed that message to you."

"She says it every fuckin' time she talks about you. I'm just skeptical."

"As you should be," shrugged Aokiji, "but my point is that you do not need to act virile in front of me. I heard you got hit by Blackbeard's earthquake directly. It's a miracle you're alive already—having it hurt doesn't seem too farfetched." He gestured at Spade. "Get him a drink, on me."

"All your drinks are already on me, so don't act so benevolent," she said wryly. "And no, he's on pain pills."

"That bad, eh?"

Marco snorted. "You ever been to Zou?"

"A long time ago."

"Feels like that entire island just sat on me."

It was the only time Marco had been honest with him, though Aokiji thought he might've been exaggerating a bit. But as Aokiji lied flat on his back, jagged pieces of stone and metal piping sticking into his body uncomfortably, he had to agree with the Phoenix. Blackbeard's earthquakes felt exactly like a colossal, moving-elephant-of-an-island plopped right onto your torso, and Aokiji hadn't even been hit directly.

 _Maybe 9.8 magnitude earthquake on the Haiwa scale,_ thought Aokiji's attention-deficit brain as it tried to focus on something other than pain, _scale range is one to fifteen with the record being 14.999 documented by Marine oceanographer Cortus Haiwa after witnessing Edward Newgate a.k.a. Whitebeard wield the Gura Gura no Mi against Gol D. Roger and cracked the junction of sky to sea. Plus Gol D. Roger hadn't even died from that, man, people back in the day were super monsters, I thought I was strong but damn this hurts pretty bad—_

"Kuzan!"

Aokiji opened up his eyes. Trafalgar Law was standing over him, brow furrowed as his finger assisted in peeling open one of Aokiji's eyelids.

"Can you hear me?" Law said loudly. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Aokiji squinted, then croaked, "Three."

"Good."

The ground shifted beneath him and he felt that jerking sensation whenever Law teleported him, and he was abruptly sitting against a crumbling wall, several yards away from where he'd fallen. Law poked and prodded at Aokiji's limbs indecorously, presumably conducting a swift physical exam—really couldn't take the doctor out of that one. Some distance away, Blackbeard continued to duel Dragon, who had luckily dodged the earthquake that Aokiji clearly failed to.

"Skye?" Aokiji's mouth was dry.

"Safe," said Law tersely.

"Doflamingo?"

Law's gray eyes met his coldly.

"Incapacitated."

Aokiji coughed and tasted metal. "You know, 'dead' is five less syllables."

Law didn't answer and stood up, seemingly satisfied with his examination. He dropped a small purple pill in Aokiji's hand.

"Take it," Law ordered. "I need you fully functional if we're going to pull this off."

Aokiji swallowed the Indigo Ring dry—hm, didn't taste as bad as he thought it would—and got to his feet slowly. His limbs shook violently with the effort, and in a show of incredibly awkward camaraderie, Law lent him his shoulder for support. The close proximity allowed Aokiji to get a better look at Law. He was soaked in blood that was evidently not his own, considering how easily he moved, or maybe Law was just really good at masking pain. Or he'd taken an Indigo Ring too.

Then Aokiji noticed that the rims of surgeon's eyes were red and undeniably wet and—there was really no other good phrase for it— _furious_. His lips were curled in a snarl deeper than his customary frown, and it struck Aokiji as odd that Law was still here if Spade were safe and Doflamingo dead.

"Why're you still here? I thought you were supposed to take Skye with your crew and leave."

Law blinked, unsmiling, and the shine in his eyes disappeared.

"I am going to kill Blackbeard."

That was a desire Law had never expressed before.

"Why?"

"Blackbeard split this island in half with that last attack," said Law, ignoring Aokiji's question completely. "I need you to freeze over the ocean surrounding the side we're on right now. It needs to be strong enough to support Blackbeard's weight."

The Pheasant shook his head. "He'll be able to tell if he's just standing on ice. He's too cautious for that—he won't fight at sea."

"I'll draw him out," Law said cryptically.

"How?"

"I have a plan."

In a flicker of blue, he disappeared from sight. Aokiji was left alone, the pain melting away from his body as the Indigo Ring took effect. It was a trope that criminal masterminds never revealed their plans until they could monologue it right at the edge of victory.

* * *

 _"_ _You guys ever get bored of being on this godforsaken sub?" Ikkaku asked on their sixteenth continuous day of submersion, shortly after she'd joined the crew._

 _"_ _No," Law answered, not breaking concentration from his current task of dissecting a rather irritating Donquixote goon. Cause of death: septic shock. Nidus: a Kairouseki bullet that had shattered upon impact._

 _"_ _Yeah, forget I asked," Ikkaku said, wrinkling her nose at the scent of formaldehyde and flesh._

 _Uni worked silently beside Law, his work meticulous and slow without the aid of the Ope Ope no Mi. He lifted up a segment of left lower lung lobe and held it up to the light._

 _Ikkaku groaned."You really gotta do that, Uni? What're you even trying to find?"_

 _"_ _He was a Paramecia type," Uni said more to Law than to her. "We withheld any treatment and allowed the Kairouseki shrapnel to embed into deep tissue to see its impact on the cellular structure of a body that's already been changed by a Devil's Fruit." He cut a thin slice of the lung tissue and slipped it under a microscope. "The alveolar bed is full of infiltrate, the edema—"_

 _"_ _Bo-RING," yawned Ikkaku._

 _"_ _If you are bored, Ikkaku, why don't you go and explore outside like everyone else?" Uni snipped._

 _"_ _We're still underwater, Uni! It's been over two weeks!"_

 _"_ _Perhaps you should've thought about the consequences of living on a submarine before you joined this crew then," he said finely._

 _"_ _I'm just not used to it," she retorted. "Just because you've lived on this stupid ship for five years—"_

 _"_ _Six years."_

 _"_ _The point is, I'm just not used to calling it home!"_

 _"_ _And my point is, please shut up."_

* * *

A sharp tap woke Law up with a start. He blinked out the salty grit in his eyes and sat up in his chair as he gathered his bearings. All stimuli registered to his senses in a peculiarly slow manner, as if he were submerged under a deep mental fog.

The clock read mid-afternoon. He tried to sit up, but a terrible ache rippled through his body, and he was forced to lean back. He tried to remember why everything hurt so badly. Ah, yes. Never mind getting hit by an earthquake's aftershock; he had pushed his Devil's Fruits power beyond his normal limits, and after ensuring Blackbeard's demise by submerging him in the bottom of the ocean, Law had spent the entire night stabilizing Spade, operating on Aokiji, and triaging his injured crewmates. He deserved a few hours of rest.

It was hard to believe that the day before had even been reality. He'd lost two of his crewmates. He'd watched Ikkaku and Uni die right in front of him— _die for him_ —and he'd done nothing. The subsequent victory over Blackbeard, the genius of his plan and the precision of the Yonkou's execution…any outsider would cast it as a massive victory, exchanging only two pawns to topple a king.

Chess was a poor game to play when it was personal, the pawns had names, and the game wasn't his to begin with.

The mechanical thrum of the ship's engines was comforting, and the yellow lighting of the night lamps felt softer than normal. The smell of antiseptic and bleach was sharp, nearly pungent, but Law did not mind. ("There is no such thing as too clean," Uni always said.) It had been a long time since Law had been in his own submarine, but the familiarity of his own vessel never disappeared. In an odd way, he was grateful to Eustass for seizing the ship that they'd arrived on; as inconvenient as it had been to relocate everyone onto the comparatively smaller submarine, there was truly no place like home.

The hollow beep of the heart monitor resonated through the room in a slow, reassuring manner. Spade slept peacefully on the gurney that Law was seated next to. He went over the lines she was connected to methodically: two peripheral IVs dripping hypertonic saline and antibiotics, a pulse oximeter, telemetry lines. He'd drawn her labs the night before and was currently correcting any electrolyte abnormalities; he'd have to get morning labs to see if there was any improvement to her kidney function, now that he was rehydrating her. He glanced up at her monitor: blood pressure, heart rate, and respiratory rate were all slightly low, hopefully a side effect of her Indigo Ring use and nothing more sinister, but she was oxygenating well.

"Morning, Captain," Penguin said, startling Law.

His first-mate sported dark eye circles that rivaled Law's own. He held up a clipboard that he had tapped against the metal rails of Spade's bed, identifying the source of Law's abrupt waking.

"I called your name several times," he explained somewhat apologetically.

"Sorry," Law said, rubbing his forehead.

"Don't be."

Law extended his hand for the clipboard, which Penguin handed over.

"Morning labs?" he said, stifling a yawn.

"Yeah. She looks a little better. Transfusion did its job. Hemoglobin's back up over seven and her creatinine's trending down."

Law nodded as he flipped through the papers. "It'll take some time for her creatinine to normalize. I imagine she's been in acute renal failure for some time now. It's a wonder she's alive."

"And semi-coherent," agreed Penguin. "With that sodium, I'm surprised she was able to comprehend her surroundings at all. I'm watching the sodium correction carefully. Don't want to cause central pontine myelinosis."

Law gave a small scoff. "You've been studying."

Penguin shrugged nonchalantly. "I try. Uni's always better but—"

He stopped talking abruptly, and Law did not encourage him to continue. He focused on the charts. He agreed with Penguin, but he could not attribute Spade's behavior to hyponatremia alone. Her intent to kill both him and Doflamingo had been very clear, and Law dreaded what her reaction would be to him when she woke up.

"Have you done a physical exam yet?" Law asked.

Penguin shook his head. "Didn't think you'd want me to move her, with her back in the shape it is."

"Good call," Law admitted. "I was thinking of doing a skin graft, but with the surface area that large…"

Law had patched up Spade as best he could the night before, but the entirety of her back had been shredded deep through muscle. The bulk of the night had been dedicated to debriding the wound, cutting away necrotic tissue and any signs of infection. Though ideally he would've liked to perform a skin graft on a wound that deep, Spade was so extensively wounded that there was not a skin surface intact enough for him to harvest for the graft itself. With her so ill, it was unlikely the graft would even take.

"We'd have to wait on it," Penguin said. "She's too unstable now."

"I don't know if I can do it without a first assist either."

The words fell out of Law's mouth unconsciously, matter-of-fact and emotionless. Penguin stared deliberately at Spade's monitor.

"Shachi and I know enough to help if you want to operate," his first-mate said.

Law hadn't realized he'd unconsciously shut his eyes. He opened them now and everything was blurry.

"No," he said. "There's no need."

He stood up slowly. The room spun dizzily around him, but he balanced himself on the armrest and waited until gravity once again registered down toward the center of the earth. Penguin watched him anxiously.

"Keep an eye on her," Law said. "I'm going to find something to eat."

"I can grab you something," offered Penguin. "Besides, don't you want to stay with her?"

Law glanced at Spade, but all he saw were Ikkaku's glassy eyes and the remnants of Uni's last breath, and suddenly all his fatigue and generalized pain were nothing compared to the tearing gape in his chest that made him want to lock himself in the nearest closet and scream.

"No," he heard himself say. "I don't."

* * *

 _"_ _Truth."_

 _"_ _Ugh, you guys are so boring." Ikkaku absentmindedly played with the safety of her pistol. "Uni only chooses truth, Captain only chooses dares. Switch it up, why don't you?"_

 _Uni and Ikkaku were assigned on a thirty-six hour navigation shift, for which Law had arrived at three o'clock to relieve them early and let them get several hours of sleep. Uni, a trained surgeon who was thoroughly unfazed by long shifts, had declined his captain's offer politely. Ikkaku, not to be outdone, adamantly chose to stay as well. Law, who was already up and felt silly retracting his offer, ended up staying with the two of them in the navigation room._

 _"_ _That's because we know you won't dare Captain to do anything too stupid," said Uni, "and I don't have any secrets."_

 _"_ _Fine," she said irritably. "Captain, I dare you to tell the truth."_

 _"_ _That's not a loophole of this game," Law said, watching the sonar reading. "What do you want to know so badly anyway?"_

 _Ikkaku didn't reply for such an extended period of time that Law thought she hadn't heard him. When he looked at her, though, her expression was thoughtful, as if she were given a once-in-a-lifetime offer that required careful consideration._

 _"_ _What were your parents like?" she said finally._

 _Uni stared steadfastly at their transmission Den-Den Mushi, which was currently snoring with a little snot bubble that expanded and retracted with every breath. He was signaling something to Ikkaku, most likely along the lines of, "What are you doing, you idiot" but she paid him no heed. She looked at her captain, her expression schooled meticulously to neutrality, but Law did not miss her earnestness._

 _Law did not talk about his past often, though most of the crew was aware of his history as the sole survivor of Flevance and his regrettable choice to join the Donquixote crew. Ikkaku was the newest addition to the crew, though he was certain her crewmates had filled her in on the appropriate details. Mostly everyone on the ship had unhappy childhoods, so it wasn't a subject that they tended to dwell on._

 _Law was quickly learning that while everyone around him had substantial holes in their verbal filters, Ikkaku lacked one entirely._

 _"_ _They were nice," he responded after a pregnant pause._

 _Ikkaku waited, but when it became clear that Law would not continue, she frowned._

 _"_ _That's it?"_

 _"_ _What else do you want to know?" he said, growing quickly weary of this conversation topic._

 _"_ _I dunno, maybe what they were like to you, if you liked them, why you are the way you are," she shrugged. "I just wanted to understand you a bit better."_

 _"_ _You do not need to know what my parents were like to understand me."_

 _"_ _It's not like you give us much to go by."_

 _"_ _What do you mean by that?"_

 _Ikkaku threw her hands up in a show of her exasperation. "Look, dontcha think it's kinda unfair?"_

 _"_ _Ikkaku," said Uni sharply._

 _"_ _What is?" Law said smoothly._

 _"_ _You're the captain, right? We're supposed to follow your orders, fight for you, die for you, the whole shebang." She wrapped one brown curl around her index finger and pulled it, then let it bounce back to resume its normal coil. "Maybe it's because I'm new, but I barely know anything 'bout you and I'm supposed to trust you with my life just because?"_

 _"_ _Yes."_

 _It was Uni, not Law, who answered. He had finally turned his attention away from the snoring Mushi and was fixated on Ikkaku, clearly angry._

 _Ikkaku was enraged. "I wasn't asking you!"_

 _"_ _This is why I didn't think you should've joined," Uni said coolly. "If you're not ready to take this kind of risk—"_

 _"_ _All I want is some indication that he's worthy of being trusted, that's all!"_

 _"_ _And prodding about his family is the way to do it?"_

 _"_ _It'd show that he's willing to trust me too," she snapped back. "That's it! It's a two-way street, you know, this whole dying for each other thing!"_

 _"_ _It's an understood! Being able to deal with unknown variables is a testament to how you operate under pressure—"_

 _"_ _My parents were nice," Law interrupted. "My father was a doctor. My mother was a professor at the local university. I had a little sister."_

 _Ikkaku stared at him, surprised that Law had caved so easily. He returned the look impassively as he continued._

 _"_ _She was seven. My father liked the color green, had terrible eyesight, and dyed his roots. My mother liked kale, conspiracy novels, and dyed my father's hair for him. Lamie was loud and hated frogs. She was a good writer. She died first. Is that enough information for you?"_

 _Ikkaku nodded her head quickly, an undeniable blush high on her cheeks. Law did not break his gaze._

 _"_ _You do not need to know anything about my parents, Miss Ikkaku," he said after a long bout of silence, "because they are inconsequential to who I am as your captain. If anything, it's better that my parents have so little bearing on my capabilities because they were quite nice, and I am quite not. It makes me a much better captain because when you are in danger, I am happy to kill anyone standing in the way to ensure your safety. The only truth you need to know about me is that as captain of this crew, I will do anything to protect it, including die for it. If that isn't enough of a two-way street for you, then feel free to disembark at the next island."_

 _Anyone else would have probably burst into tears at such prolonged eye contact with Law, but Ikkaku simply smiled at him and pulled at several more curls._

 _"_ _Nah, that's fine by me. Sorry 'bout that, Captain."_

 _Uni let out a tired breath that sounded suspiciously like, "Moron."_

 _The sonar signal began to beep rapidly, and Law finally turned away to address it._

 _"_ _It's a sea king," he said, standing up and shouldering his nodachi. "The kind that Shachi cooks with red pepper spice."_

 _"_ _I'll take care of it," Uni said, reaching for his broad axe._

 _"_ _No, Ikkaku will."_

 _"_ _Aye," she said eagerly._

 _"_ _No torpedoes."_

 _The subsequent "Aye" sounded a little forlorn, but when the door shut behind him, Law was smiling._

* * *

The Polar Tang was already a smaller vessel than most pirate ships, and the addition of so many newcomers made the mess appear even more crowded than it normally did. It did not help that, after being inhabited by Law's mortal enemy for the last few weeks, it held virtually no food. Most of Law's crewmates knew how to deal with hunger—everyone was a bit crankier than normal, but it was nothing insufferable.

Jewelry Bonney, however, dealt with hunger very poorly.

"If I don't get food in me in the next five minutes, I swear to God I will turn all y'all into ninety-five year old grandpas with balls so saggy they trail on the ground—"

"You already ate your share!" howled Bepo.

"And mine!" shouted Shachi.

"And it wasn't enough! Do you know how much energy it takes to maintain a Devil's Fruit?"

"Captain's got a Fruit and he barely eats at all!"

"That explains why he's so—"

"I'm so what, Miss Bonney?" Law interrupted.

Bonney turned to face him, the barest trace of embarrassment in her expression.

"Nothing," she said stiffly. "We don't have any food, and the storm's causin' all the sea kings to hide and preventin' our Log Pose from locking onto another island."

"We can last maybe another two days, max, and that's with guests being reasonable," Shachi said, shooting an ugly look at Bonney.

"I can handle it," she snapped.

"How's Skye?"

All heads turned rather nervously to look at Aokiji, who was sitting in the corner of the mess with a mug of coffee (that was one supply the Polar Tang was not going to run out of) and an empty plate sporting trace breadcrumbs. He was heavily bandaged— _three fractured ribs,_ _status post splenectomy after severe splenic laceration_ , Law mentally ticked off.

"You shouldn't be up," Law intoned.

"I'm fine."

"You just had intraabdominal surgery. I removed your spleen."

"I would've never guessed," Aokiji said briskly. "No scars. Impressive surgerizing, Captain Trafalgar."

"That's not a word."

Aokiji gave him a bemused smile. "Skye?"

"Stable. Still asleep. We're monitoring her." Law went to the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup. "Is there any onigiri left?"

"I saved one!" Bepo said excitedly, shoving a rather deformed ball of rice wrapped in broken fragments of seaweed in Law's face.

Law took it gratefully. "Thanks." He motioned to Shachi. "You're in charge of rations. Miss Bonney, I recognize your appetite but please control yourself until we can reach the next island. Bepo, you're in charge of navigation—getting to land takes priority. I don't care if you need to blast our entire torpedo supply to get there."

"That'd piss Ikkaku off," Shachi muttered.

There were some weak chuckles, a pathetic push against the heavy solemnity that hung over the submarine, the smoke of a doused fire.

* * *

 _"_ _Captain!"_

 _Law chased the sound, heart pounding as Ikkaku's voice reverberated through the canyons. Grand Line islands were proving to be more hazardous than he'd anticipated; Poppy Port was supposed to have been a benign stop, a port city full of innocent white poppy flowers that sold for aesthetic and pharmacologic purposes. The Hearts realized a bit too late that the flowers exuded a hallucinogenic gas at night, forcing visitors to relive their worst fears. By nature of constant exposure, the island natives were tolerant to the gas and took advantage of pirates' foolishness to capture them and earn their bounties._

 _The rest of Law's crew was currently quarantined and sedated on the Polar Tang. Only Uni and Law were unaffected—Uni because of his mask, Law because his past experience with Amber Lead had built up a tolerance to most poisons. Only Ikkaku was missing, after being sent to retrieve the head of the village leader after the first of the Hearts began to show symptoms._

 _"_ _Hard to localize the source," Uni said._

 _"_ _Let's split," Law said, shoving a Den-Den Mushi in Uni's hand. "Call the moment you find her."_

 _"_ _Aye."_

 _Dusk had fallen and the night air heavy with the perfumes of hallucinogen when Uni finally called. Law found the two of them huddled in a cave, Uni holding Ikkaku tightly as she rocked back and forth violently. The body of the village leader—one clean shot to the head, barely any blood even—lied next to them. Law knelt in front of them._

 _"_ _Ikkaku."_

 _"_ _Stop," she said, unseeing. She gripped Law's hand tightly. "Stop, please, please, please."_

 _"_ _Ikkaku," Law said more firmly, taking her by the shoulder. "Snap out of it. It's not real."_

 _"_ _Stop, I'm sorry, stop."_

 _"_ _Ikkaku!"_

 _"_ _It's no use," said Uni._

 _"_ _What's she seeing?"_

 _"_ _Her parents," Uni said smoothly. "They were abusive drunks."_

 _Law didn't ask how Uni knew that, even though Ikkaku never talked about her personal life and Uni rivaled his captain in degree of emotional expression._

 _"_ _Ikkaku," said Uni in the gentlest tone that Law had ever heard him employ with her. "Captain's here. You're safe now. We're going to take you home."_

 _Ikkaku looked straight at Law, brown eyes wide and believing and Law knew that she saw him and only him._

 _"_ _Home," she said._

 _"_ _Home," Law repeated quietly._

 _He returned her grasp, and Ikkaku stopped shaking._

* * *

"How are you?"

Law didn't look up from his coffee. "I'm fine."

The Hearts had vacated the mess hall, with most relocating to the engine and navigation rooms to attempt to brave the tumultuous waters. The submarine rocked uneasily, leaving Law feeling queasier than he was already, but he tried to eat the rest of his onigiri regardless. If he didn't, he was sure Bonney would, and all that was left in the pantry was stale moldy bread.

It was just him and Aokiji now. The ex-Admiral seated himself in front of Law, much to his displeasure.

"Well, I hurt like a bitch," Aokiji said, adjusting his position gingerly.

"That's why I said you shouldn't be up."

He waved his hand. "That's not the point. There's nothing I can gain from sitting still. I merely meant it is quite all right to express your pain if you are feeling it."

Law rifled through the stack of old newspapers at the corner of the dining table. He did not appreciate the knowing look Aokiji was giving him. "I'm fine."

The Pheasant sighed. "Suit yourself."

Law perused the newspapers detailing the events of the Dressrosa Incident, followed by the weeks of mindless Reverie reports. It all felt like a lifetime ago. The hatred for Doflamingo that Law had carefully nursed for thirteen years felt hollow now, an insubstantial ash now that Doflamingo was indisposed, trumped by Law's fresher wounds.

"It was a good plan," Aokiji said, once again attempting to create conversation when none was necessary. "Using Eustass Kid to lure Blackbeard out to sea—I couldn't even tell you'd transposed an entire beach onto my ice. It must've taken significant effort."

"It did," was the short reply.

"And then using Blackbeard's own magnetic darkness to imbed Kairouseki bullets into him so you could submerge him under the ice," mused Aokiji. "A thorough job well done."

"I know."

"You take compliments well, don't you?"

"You don't need to make small talk, Kuzan. I am not looking for your validation."

Aokiji smirked. "True. Perhaps I'm getting you confused for my pupil. Still…" He stretched out his long legs on the seat next to him, "Skye always did say she didn't care who killed Blackbeard, as long as he died. I'm sure she never would've expected you to do it though."

"What do you want, Kuzan?" Law said, finally placing the newspapers to the side and looking at the older man straight in the eyes.

"I want you to remember," he said clearly, "what you told me when you snuck into the Blackbeard base. That you would save Skye if it were the last thing you did."

"I remember," Law answered coolly, "and as you can see, I am doing what I can to ensure she stays alive."

"I recognize that, but you needn't be so reluctant to do so."

The accusation made Law's blood sear.

"Reluctant?" he repeated, the word spat with derision. "I have spent every waking moment of the last month thinking about saving Spade. If you merely have a problem with my attitude—"

"I do, actually," Aokiji said serenely.

"I said that I would save her if it was the last thing I did, but my crewmates swore no such oath." The paper in his hand crumpled with the effort it took to keep his voice level. "I lost two men for a fight that wasn't mine."

"I recognize that, and I'm sorry for your loss." He looked and sounded the part, but Law did not believe him. "That being said, don't act like you regret saving her. That fight was as much yours as it was hers, and she's sacrificed enough for you too. She is worth saving."

Law stood up, eyes blazing and heart pounding, so angry and tired and worn that he nearly passed out. Aokiji stared up at him, gaze softer now, but Law was in no mood for his lecture or his pity. Whatever emotions Law felt, if they were inappropriate or not, were too raw for mediation and too violent for control. He knew that the lesson whatever higher power—Doflamingo, Fate, God—had been trying to teach him all along had finally been enforced in a terrible, roundabout way, that in his attempt to chase a feeble love and flitting validation, Law had lost sight of the crew, _his_ crew, and consequently what should have always been his priority. He understood the lesson, he _hated_ the lesson, but he recognized where he had failed.

His throat felt so constricted that he could barely speak.

"She's in the sickbay. You can relieve Penguin. I'm going to rest. Let me know if her status changes."

Law left the mess hall, itching to escape Aokiji's sympathy and reproach, and made his way to his own room. The door shut behind him with a solid clack, and he leaned against it and exhaled.

He looked down at his hands. The black smeared ink from the newspaper coursed over his palms, reminding him of the ashes of the SOS Den-Den Mushi in a dream where Law had expressed a desire he should have never voiced aloud.

Something had changed. No matter how unreasonable it was, no matter how much he resisted it, the guilt and resentment gnawed away at whatever previous warmth he'd felt for Spade, a parasite that burrowed without his consent and beyond his control.

 _That is what power is, Miss Spade. The ability to elicit that degree of emotion, feeling out of someone, no matter how unwilling. It is a mistake, but also a natural consequence_.

And despite having defeated a Yonkou, Law had never felt so weak.


	24. Shattered Glass

**Chapter 24: Shattered Glass**

She was conscious for brief periods of time, long enough to register the faces that floated around her. Aokiji, constantly, then a smattering of Heart Pirates, and occasionally Bonney too. She never saw Law, but she was fine with that; his absence conferred more of a security than his presence ever could. It was unfair to him, she knew that, and in a lucid state, she'd know that clones and Doflamingo and Blackbeard and torture aside, Law had saved her. But the drugged sedation she found herself in—likely Law's work, anyway—meant Spade had very little control over her bodily or mental functions, and she only knew what she felt: fear, resentment, and longing. It was a sickening combination of emotions; if she'd had a choice, she would feel nothing at all.

She could tell she was being weaned off her pain medications because the minutes of comprehension stretched progressively longer, and finally she reached the stage where she could not feign sleep any longer. Spade opened her eyes with some difficulty and blinked slowly as the cold gray ceiling came into focus. Crusty flakes of grit and salt fell from her eyelashes, and she stirred to brush them away. She could not complete the movement. Pain exploded up and down her entire back and shoulders and she let out a small cry as her limbs fell uselessly to her sides; she was stiff and aching from bandages, scabs, and immobility, and all she could manage was crumpling the starched bed sheets in her palms as she bit back tears.

"You're awake." Aokiji came into vision above her, calm but concerned.

"Hurts," she gasped.

"Of course, we tapered down too quickly." Aokiji held up a small remote with a singular button and pressed it. "Law transitioned you from scheduled pain meds to a self-administered analgesic. He thought it would help you wake up."

The medications took swift effect, not enough to abolish the pain completely, but enough to mute it from a full-fledged roar to a dull groan. Spade reached for the remote desperately, and when Aokiji gave it to her, she pressed the button several more times rapidly.

"Are you all right?"

His voice sounded fuzzy, and Spade could feel the comforting familiarity of drugged oblivion wash over her senses. She nodded languidly, eyes fluttering shut again, but Aokiji shook her by the shoulder.

"I need you awake, Skye. You've slept for too long. Law said the drugs are hurting more than helping at this point."

"Fuck Law," was what she wanted to say, but Spade's tongue had become lead and Aokiji's request bounced off her uselessly. She fell back asleep.

When she woke up again, Aokiji was none-to-pleased. She reached fruitlessly for the pain control remote, but he scooted it out of her range.

"Not again."

"It hurts," she said, livid.

Aokiji pressed the button once, but held onto the control. "I need you awake."

"For what?" she bit out. "I've done enough."

"How would you know? You fainted before the battle concluded."

"The fuck do I care."

Pain made Spade mean, and she found it difficult to express any sort of care for the outcome of the battle. Sure, she'd knowingly sacrificed herself for a chance at Blackbeard, and clearly they'd won because there was no way she'd still be alive and suffering if they'd lost. Yet, despite having the optimal outcome, Spade bitterly wished otherwise, because she could not convince that whatever she'd suffered through was worth the price of victory.

"You don't care about what your sacrifice led to?" he said. "You don't care that Law killed Blackbeard? You don't care that I've been colluding with the Revolutionary Army this entire time without telling you?"

Bombshell after bombshell. Sane Spade would've been floored, because she would've never bet in a million years that Law of all people could take down Blackbeard; sane Spade would've been furious that Aokiji had hidden such a crucial connection for so long. Hurricane would be calculating how much each bombshell was worth, dissecting each into its individual parts before dropping them in the Underworld, but Spade wasn't Hurricane anymore. Spade's mind had already been shattered into fragments that she didn't want to put back together. The overload of information barely registered, and all she could muster was a, "No."

Aokiji chose to ignore her hostility, as if he expected this reaction from her. She hated that her behavior, this petulant and antagonistic, was somehow predictable.

"The Revolutionaries have been following my Vivre card," Aokiji explained even though Spade didn't ask for it. "Marco sent a Supernova crew to save you. They converged at the same time. According to Law, Sabo saved you after you went a bit berserk. It took his flames to calm you down and take out Doflamingo."

 _Told ya I'd kill him if I could_.

"The Revolutionaries are pursuing the remnants of Blackbeard's crew," he continued. "Eustass Kid and his first mate stole all the Indigo Rings and fled. Meanwhile, we're on the Polar Tang, as I'm sure you can tell, on course back to Wano. I'm sure Marco will be glad to see you alive."

Spade scoffed. "Doflamingo's dead then?"

"Yes."

"Sabo did it? Law must be disappointed." Something was wrong with her—she felt an odd kind of elation knowing that Law had been denied his greatest hope for revenge, because _he deserved it_. The thought was followed immediately by a swooping sickness in her stomach, and abruptly Spade wanted to throw up the empty contents of her stomach and her soul.

"He lost two members of his crew." Ah. That explained why Law was never here _._ "I think he was more disappointed in that." Aokiji spoke in that serene, deliberate way he reserved for lectures when he was disappointed in her behavior. He knew exactly what Spade was thinking and feeling, though it wasn't like Spade had the energy for social appropriateness—she wanted to wound and maim everything around her the way Doflamingo had done to her, and it so happened that Aokiji was the only one who around to bear witness.

"That sucks," she said pitilessly. "I'm sure he wishes he could trade me for them." She struggled to sit up and her body screamed in rebellion; she knew she was reopening wounds and stretching muscles that had atrophied, but anger fueled her in a way that no other emotion could, and she could not allow herself to feel anything else.

Aokiji frowned imperceptibly. "Perhaps I should've let you rest longer."

"Yeah," she snarled, "maybe you should've. In fact, maybe you should just overload me with drugs so I stay the fuck asleep forever, because I never asked to wake back up, but you won't do that, will you, Kuzan? I asked you to kill me a million times but no, you're all about that life is worth living bullshit even when there's no point!"

"You've come back from worse things, Skye," he said quietly.

"No, no," the edges of hysterical laughter crept in her speech, "I am _expired_ , Aokiji. It's different this time—we won, see? Somehow, Trafalgar Law killed Blackbeard!" She gesticulated with her tightly bandaged arms wildly. "Blackbeard's dead! That's the only thing I care about! I am _done_."

"What about Akainu then? The Marines?"

She let out a bark of laughter. "Don't pretend you would've ever let us overthrow the Marines. I know you've been feeding information back to Akainu this whole time—I am done, Kuzan. I've done all that I could have, and you should've fucking killed me after you used me, just like you promised."

"We agreed to that plan together, Skye."

"Yeah, I know," she spat. "Of course I agreed, what other choice did I have?"

"I gave you a choice—"

"It wasn't a fucking choice, Aokiji, it was a fucking order! You know that! You knew exactly what you were doing—don't act like I could have ever told you no!"

She didn't know how she could project the way she was projecting. It physically hurt to shout, but it barely registered on top of everything else. All Spade knew was that she was angry at everyone and everything hurt. She hated Aokiji, Law, Marco, she hated herself for thinking she could ever play the heroine, she hated being awake and conscious because that meant she had the mental capacity to regret her decision. It was only amplified by the knowledge that despite Blackbeard somehow being dead, Spade was not any happier. How was that possible? She was supposed to be overjoyed. Vengeance had been achieved and it was supposed to taste so sweet, so how was it that, after betting absolutely everything she had on this cause, she only tasted the crushing ache of regret and the hollowness of unfulfilled purpose?

God, she blamed everyone. Despite being a control freak, she hadn't been prepared for any step of this, from the torture to giving up Hurricane to loving a stranger to even seeing Ace's flames become someone else's. She hadn't been prepared for Ace to die. And she hadn't been prepared for avenging him to mean so little.

She started laughing maniacally. She knew that she was feeling exactly what Law was feeling. How _unsatisfying_. She'd wanted to kill Blackbeard for only three years—how much worse was it to feel this empty after lusting for Doflamingo's death for thirteen? Was revenge worth it when you lost so much of yourself along the way?

She laid back down, body shaking with each laugh, and she covered her eyes with the back of her forearm as she felt something wet trail down her cheeks. She tasted salt on her tongue and convinced herself there was no part of her left she could lose.

* * *

Law did not speak to Spade long after she woke up. It wasn't entirely by his design—Aokiji asked to keep the number of visitors to a minimum considering that, "Quite honestly, she's being very mean and is rather unpleasant to be around"—but Law did not try terribly hard to see her either. He allowed Aokiji to play nurse and therefore avoided Spade when she was awake. Sometimes, in the very early morning when he was quite certain she was asleep, Law would slip into the sickbay to administer some medications or observe the telemetry, but he never loitered longer than he had to.

If anyone thought Law being a terrible doctor, they didn't say it aloud.

The atrocious weather since leaving Blackbeard's base only abated for only a few hours, but it was enough for the Polar Tang to reach a small island and restock their pantry. They were now on their eighth consecutive day of submersion, finally en route back to Wano, and the crew was becoming antsy. Minor fights broke out between members of Law's crew, and Shachi got along with Bonney as well as their hair colors clashed. Law put out the fires where he could, but truth be told he was not of much help. He knew the core of the irritation wasn't the dwindling food supplies or the stifling heat of the submarine. Ikkaku and Uni's cots remained untouched, Uni's precisely made and Ikkaku's a heap of sheets.

Nonetheless, there was no time to mourn and even less time to break out into scuffles. The continuous submersion made communications with the surface spotty. The storms prevented their Den-Den Mushi from sending and receiving signals, and news gulls had no way of reaching them below the surface. For all Law knew, Kaidou could've set Wano on fire by the time they arrived. Part of Law wondered if he was ready for another fight with yet another Yonkou, but then he remembered that Kaidou was the one he'd been targeting from the beginning, and everything with Blackbeard had been a detour he should've never embarked on.

It was quiet on the Polar Tang, with most of the crew asleep in the late of night. Bepo and Penguin were on navigation duty tonight, and Law was backup because he didn't sleep anymore. He patrolled the halls listlessly, but his conscience nagged him with the task he'd put off all day: he had not checked on Spade for four days now.

He managed to distract himself by cleaning out his operating room for the third time and mentally checking off the itinerary of hearts in his aquarium. When it reached four-thirty, though, Law had run out of ways to organize all of the drugs in his anesthesia carts, and he was too restless to study. He reluctantly made his way to the recovery room. For once, Aokiji was not in the loveseat next to Spade's bed—even he must've tired of Spade's acidity. Law began his routine, reading the monitors, checking the peripheral IVs to ensure they were still flowing, changing out the fluid bags for fresh ones. He read over Spade's latest labs, ensured that all the numbers were trending in the right direction, and was making notes to Penguin in the chart when he happened to glance at Spade and realized that she was staring straight at him, green eyes wide and awake.

Law did not say anything. He finished making his notes and hung the clipboard down the side rails of the bed. Spade watched him closely, and he found her expression difficult to read. Aokiji had warned him that Spade was being excessively cruel ever since she'd woken up, and from her reaction to him in Blackbeard's base, Law knew that there was no warmth between them.

"Are you in pain?" he asked.

At the sound of his voice, Spade visibly relaxed, as if she had been expecting something else. "No. I'm all right."

"Good."

He reached for her wrist to feel for her pulse and was glad when she didn't pull away. She seemed uneasy with his touch, but appeared to actively overcome this impulse.

"You're in bad shape," he said. "We can consider operating when you're a little more stable, or you can choose to heal naturally."

"You've been avoiding me," she said, ignoring his medical suggestions completely. "I've been awake for a while now."

"I've checked on you," he returned. "You've merely been asleep whenever I came around, and I didn't think it prudent to wake you."

"I'm sure that wasn't intentional," she said, gaze level and piercing.

"And I'm sure you were asleep each time I came in," Law replied in the same tone.

They remained silent for several seconds, both desperately wishing to look away but too stubborn to admit that there was something fundamentally different between them now. Some part of Law didn't understand how he could feel such animosity toward someone he had once vocalized love for, and he knew that Spade felt the same way.

"I wasn't asleep the majority of the times," Spade said, finally giving in. "It's been hard to sleep."

Law understood why.

"It doesn't get any easier," he said thinly. "I'd give you drugs, but I'm worried about your heart rate."

"You didn't take any after your escape, I'm sure. Maybe you didn't need any, with Eustass Kid around to fuck you to sleep."

Bonney had likely run her mouth off, but Spade didn't sound angry. She was snide and trying to provoke him—why, Law wasn't sure, but it was tempting to lash back. He knew that Ikkaku and Uni's deaths were not Spade's fault, but he expected her to be penitent and guilty, and Spade gave no indication of following his script.

"Certainly, he helped," was his staid reply.

A shadow crossed Spade's face, as if she wanted him to react. They were both terrible at playing the part they were meant to play—the word victim came to mind. Neither was delicate and both wanted to prove they weren't, but neither was willing to truly strike the first blow.

Law reached for his stethoscope, which hung on the rungs of the IV stand. "May I take a listen to your heart?"

Spade gave him an odd sort of look, like she did not think he'd have the courtesy to ask. But Law was in his doctor mode, which meant that the bare minimum of bedside manner had to be employed, and that meant not stupidly feeling under Spade's gown when she was clearly searching for a reason to fight.

"Yeah." She looked away as Law bent down and placed the instrument over her bandages. He heard the rhythmic ba-bump-ba-bump and found it soothing in its honesty—hearts could not lie to him, no matter how much their owners could.

"You killed Blackbeard," he heard her say through the stethoscope, her voice echoing through the chamber.

"Stop talking," he said. "I need to listen."

She pushed him off, the barest signs of a fight. "I'm fine."

Law hung the stethoscope back on the stand. "Yes, you are for the time being."

"You killed Blackbeard," Spade said again, and he realized finally what she was doing—trying to assert control of their dynamic, to break it out of the doctor-patient mode to a scenario where they could talk like equals.

"I did."

"Did you see his body?"

He could feel his skin crawl with her tone, an irritation toward her that had evaporated long before they'd reached the Whitebeard base so many weeks ago now prickling like lemon squeezed on a fresh cut. It reminded him of their dynamic when Spade had first boarded the Polar Tang—mistrustful, angry, and scared, when she had dissected every aspect of his behavior down to a molecular level in search for a reason to hate him. Law was past the point of wanting to prove himself; he'd sacrificed two crewmates for her, and if that was not enough proof that on some level he cared for her, then nothing ever would.

"Eustass Kid stealing the Indigo Rings turned out to be a gift in disguise," Law said mechanically. "It made Blackbeard chase out unknowingly onto a beach I created using Aokiji's ice. I imbued Kairouseki bullets into him and buried him under the sea. Aokiji sealed it over with glaciers."

"But you did not see his body."

Law narrowed his eyes. "Blackbeard is dead, Miss Spade."

She readjusted her gown. "We'll see."

She sounded hopeful, almost.

Law deemed the conversation through. He had nothing more to contribute, and he had the gnawing suspicion that any longer in Spade's presence would turn into an ugly fight. They were not ready to pity each other, nor did they want pity in the first place; how ironic that the only person who could understand him was Spade and vice versa, yet they could not stand to be in each other's presence. Doflamingo was a mastermind through and through.

Law turned to leave, and Spade made no motion to stop him. When he was at the door, though, she spoke.

"Law, I need a pregnancy test."

Law froze, hand resting on the cold handle of his exit. Spade's sentence came rushed, reluctant, and strained in the first sign of vulnerability he'd seen from her all night. It struck him that he had not fully understood what had kept Spade up all these nights; this was a factor he'd never had to consider after his own torture. He did not know what was worse: that Spade had been found this possibility so daunting that she'd delayed asking for days, or that Law had already checked this element and had not bothered to tell her.

He turned around to face her, because bedside manner, because no matter what he felt for Spade now, some news needed to be delivered by a friend, kindly. She looked at him with an expression short of terror, hands clenching the front of her gown. She looked small.

"You're not pregnant," he said gently. "I checked already."

Relief softened her expression, but she still did not look normal.

"I treated everything else prophylactically," he said. "The diseases, I mean. Just in case."

She nodded jerkily. "Okay."

They stared at each other. He wished she would stop looking so frightened of him. Some part of him hated her, but he would not hurt her. He'd sworn an oath, and his word still had to mean something.

Law cleared his throat. "Anything else, Miss Spade?"

A long pause. "I'll take those drugs, no matter what they'll do to my heart rate."

Law opened his mouth to decline: it wasn't a medically sound decision.

But then he looked at Spade, and thought of all the things he wanted to say and couldn't, and knew that no matter how Spade acted otherwise, she was sorry for his losses and he was sorry for hers.

"Sure," he heard himself say. "Just a low dose at nighttime."

It wasn't pity—just a small mercy. It was the most she could ask for and the most he could afford.

* * *

The weather cleared at last only when Bepo finally could smell the familiar calming scent of Wano, like fresh rainwater and noodles in beef broth. The Polar Tang surfaced, much to everyone's collective delight. Aokiji took some time to stretch his legs and wander across the ocean, promising he'd be able to find his way back. Bonney, ravenous and weary of the measly submarine rations, immediately set out to fish for sea kings that she assured she would not share with anyone else.

With their guests gone, the Hearts took to the submarine deck. The men collectively breathed a sigh of relief, welcoming the fresh air, clear skies, and the opportunity to misbehave. Penguin demanded a sparring match with Bepo, and though Law knew that he would have to patch them both up later, he let them blow off steam. Shachi peered over the edge of the deck, attempting to see below the surface for any food.

"I think we're near a nest," he said excitedly when Law approached.

"That'd be nice," the captain said. "Perhaps Miss Bonney should've stayed with us."

"Nah, I'm happy not to share with her," Shachi shuddered. "Okay, I'm gonna take a coupl'o men and dive down—dinner in two hours?"

"Sure." Law ran a hand through his hair and set his cap back down. "Get enough for a feast."

"Eh? We celebrating somethin'?"

"It's about time we held a wake for Ikkaku and Uni," he said. "It's just the crew right now. We can open the emergency alcohol stash. Send them off properly."

"Right, good idea." Shachi stared determinedly at the water. "Uh, Spade's still on board. She and Ikkaku…they were pretty good friends."

Law hadn't forgotten, but he pretended he had. "Oh?"

"None of us have really seen her since she, y'know…" Shachi adjusted his sunglasses. "Didn't want her to think we're avoiding her."

"Of course not," Law said smoothly. "Aokiji's asked for her to be left alone."

"How's she doing?"

"Better."

"Then maybe Bepo can invite her to the feast too? I'm sure she'd like to be out in the open."

Perhaps Law had underestimated how kind his crew could be. "You don't have to force yourselves, Shachi."

"We're not!"

"It's reasonable to feel a little resentful."

Shachi studied at him closely. "Are you saying that because you feel that way?"

Law noticed the barest ripple break the water, and he created a Room that sank beneath the ocean's still surface. He pointed his index finger and a flailing, rainbow-colored sea king burst into the air, jaws wide in a horrendous roar. Shachi backed away from the monster with a startled shout and scurried out of the way as fast as he could; Jean Bart, always prepared, sliced the fish into neat, equal pieces as the beast fell onto the deck with a thunderous thud.

"Dinner in two hours," Law said calmly.

Shachi did not bring up the topic again.

* * *

Spade made her way to the deck of the Polar Tang after the last drunk Hearts Pirate collapsed against the rails with a regal snore. After the loud and rowdy feast, most of the crew had managed to retire to their quarters despite drinking their weight in ale, but there were a few stragglers who could not complete the journey. She prodded their unconscious bodies with the butt of her crutch. Satisfied with their lack of response, she hobbled around them and made her way slowly and ungainly to the tiny yellow crow's nest. It took her nearly fifteen minutes, and when she finally sat down, she was gasping for air and sweating. Her back ached, her right armpit throbbed from the crutch, and blood began to seep through her bandages—perhaps she hadn't been ready for the physical activity. Her wounds seemed to reopen with the slightest movement, but Spade was tired of being confined to her bed with only Aokiji's pitying judgment as company.

She tossed her crutch to the side and placed the spare Den-Den Mushi she'd taken from the communications room in front of her. Her personal Interceptor lost, Spade no longer had the easy access to her Hurricane account, but she still remembered all her account numbers and passwords clearly. Muscle memory took over as she dialed channel after channel, entered code after code, only to arrive at a final message: "The account you're attempting to access is no longer active."

She stared at the Mushi, trying her best not to be disappointed. She had expected this—the Underworld must've heard about her alias, and she likely had given up the Hurricane account information to Doflamingo at some point during her captivity. There was no way the Underworld gatekeepers would have kept her account active; it was too much of a liability.

Still, it hurt.

"It's not polite to steal things, Miss Spade."

She jumped at the noise. Law sat down in front of her, careful with his long limbs in the already crowded space. She had not noticed him arrive at all; add failing Observation Haki to the growing list of reasons why Spade felt increasingly useless.

"They're your spares," she said, holding the Mushi protectively against her chest.

"They're still mine," he said. "Not to mention you shouldn't be up."

"Shouldn't you be passed out somewhere, drunk and stupid?"

"Not when the rest of my crew is," he answered. "One of us has to remain of sound mind."

"What a terrible role being captain must be."

"The perks change per crew. I assure you Luffy has no qualms passing out drunk before the rest of his team."

Spade nodded in agreement. This was nice—her and Law conversing normally. She did not feel scared of him at the moment, and this setting felt familiar. They'd spent much time together like this after all, listening to the Underworld News as Spade hopped from channel to channel.

"Did you eat enough at dinner?" Law asked.

"Yeah, Shachi made sure my plate was full. I ate what I could." She toyed with the antennae of her snail. "Thanks for letting me join."

"It was Shachi and Bepo's idea," he replied. "Thank them."

"Yeah, I figured. I know you didn't want me there."

The temperature between them dropped several degrees. Spade couldn't control herself—she was being antagonistic for no reason, but she wanted Law to finally say what he meant. She wanted to see him angry so she could retaliate too, but Law refused to rise to the bait.

"If you won't be using those Mushi, I'd like them back," he said tonelessly. "I have some news I'd like to check up on."

"I'll do it," she muttered, dialing another channel with a fresh account number.

"I thought Hurricane's account was no longer valid."

So he had heard. Spade ignored the sinking ache in her chest and refused to show it.

"It's not. I have a couple back-up accounts. Nothing in the master tier, but intermediate is still higher than what you can access."

"Fair enough."

He allowed her several minutes of concentration. She flipped through channels rapidly, catching more static than substance, and the minutes ticked by before she fine-tuned an audible reporter.

"Whitebeard Pirates maintain their dominance over Wano Country, the secluded country known for formidable samurai and a shogunate backed by the Beast Pirates. Led by the Whitebeards, the shogunate has been overthrown with no retaliation from Kaidou. Reports have placed Kaidou and his fleet en route to Impel Down. Fleet Admiral Sakazuki has called the Shichibukai to arms to Marineford. With Trafalgar Law's seat still vacant and Donquixote Doflamingo's status unknown, the outcome of the battle is unpredictable."

The connection fizzled out, and Spade could not find another accessible channel with new information. Perhaps she could've found more on master tier account, but chances were that information was scarce all around. The Underworld must be imploding, with Hurricane of Intel and Joker of economics suddenly disappearing. No power structure was stable, which meant that the next actions of the remaining players were incredibly crucial in determining who would assume the vacancies.

"Status unknown," she echoed.

"They can't confirm anything," Law said. "No mention of Blackbeard or the Revolutionaries either. The Underworld Intel Network is falling behind."

"Spies don't have any backing." Spade placed the snail down, suddenly feeling even more tired than before. "There's no incentive to search for information when they're not guaranteed income or protection."

"Mm," he agreed. "We'll see what the news gull brings tomorrow."

"It'll all be speculation," she said. "I don't trust any of their sources, and I've lost contact with all of my own. I won't believe any news unless I see it for my own eyes."

"I agree." Law reached for his Den-Den Mushi, and the snail plodded toward its master determinedly. "Which is why I don't think Doflamingo is dead."

"…What?"

"I didn't check the corpse," Law said in a deceptively composed manner. "I was too busy getting you out of there. I didn't have time to check what Sabo had burned, and when I returned to the base, I couldn't find any remnants of his body."

"You told Aokiji—"

"I never said he was dead," he said, gray eyes sliding closed as he leaned his head back. "Kuzan made those inferences on his own. We had bigger fish to fry, after all."

"Did you see Blackbeard's body then?" she said evenly.

"No," he admitted. "I didn't. I couldn't exactly dive into the sea searching for it, you know."

"Then by your logic—"

"What are you trying to do, Miss Spade," Law cut in. "It's as if you _want_ your sacrifice to be pointless."

"That's not it," she retorted. "I'm trying to be realistic, Law—just because I lost something doesn't mean I have to be blinded by it—"

"And what did you lose, exactly?" Law snarled, eyes finally snapping open. "Don't forget who you're talking to—I went through what you did, I know that Doflamingo is a piece of shit, but _no one you love died_."

Something inside her chipped; she'd been goading Law this whole time, but now that he'd finally snapped, Spade realized that maybe she wasn't ready for this after all.

"Did you really think I'd be so careless with the people who killed Ikkaku and Uni?" Law continued, eyes blazing. "I tore Van Auger apart, skin layer by skin layer, organ by organ, I made sure he watched Uni and Ikkaku's corpses as I turned him into one. Blackbeard is _dead_ , Miss Spade, because I avenged what I'd lost, but you cannot say that you've done the same because there is nothing to avenge when _you're the one still alive_."

He said it all, finally. The blame, the accusation, the competition to determine who'd lost the most and therefore who deserved the other's apology. Law thought he won, and on some part, Spade did too. No matter what, she was still breathing.

Law was panting slightly, the fire in his eyes slowly seeping into a hollow horror at his words. He didn't mean it, but of course he did. Law wasn't a nice person, and there was no reason for him to pretend to be one.

But if they were going to play the guilt trip game, she was not going to be the first to bend, not when Law was the origin of everything that had happened.

"I lost Hurricane, but you knew that already," she said simply. "Right now, though, I also can't access my Devil's Fruit. My Haki's a mess too. I've lost everything that made me remotely useful in this war, but you're right." Her mouth twisted. "I'm alive. Joy, right?"

Law didn't answer, but he didn't break eye contact.

"Doflamingo made a clone of you to torture me," she continued. "Everywhere you—it—touched me, it'd shred down to bone. Every time he fucked me, you'd be watching, smiling. Simple negative conditioning. He hoped that seeing you, touching you, I'd hate you and fear you all at once. Easy."

Law had gone rather pale but he kept her gaze stonily.

"But I could focus on the fact that your clone didn't speak, and I kept that distinction. The Law that was silent was the one that hurt me. The one who can speak…that one won't. But maybe it didn't matter. I didn't need Doflamingo to convince me that you could hurt me, that you're the reason I've lost everything, because you, not your clone, started all of this. So if you ask me what I've really lost, who I've really lost…I'd say I lost you." She was whispering by this point, because any louder and her voice would most certainly crack. "But maybe that's my fault. Maybe I should've never had you to begin with."

She didn't continue. She likely couldn't.

A cool zephyr blew, and somewhere in the distance, a dolphin barked and was answered by its peers. Snores from Law's crewmates below perforated the silence, and Spade wished she could be just as ignorantly content. A raindrop fell onto her lap. Surprised, she looked up to the sky, but there was not a cloud in sight.

Oh. Had she ever cried in front of Law before?

"Can you transport me back to my bed?" she said, voice shaking. "I don't think I can make it there myself."

She blinked and she was sitting on her bed, alone in the pristine of the sickbay. Law was nowhere in sight, and he hadn't said a word in return.

Her back was screaming in pain, and lately she'd taken to sleeping on her front to alleviate the pressure. She turned gingerly, buried face in the pillows, and in the security of her loneliness, sobbed.

* * *

It was an uncommonly clear and sunny day when the Polar Tang was sighted off the coasts of Wano. The Whitebeards and Strawhats convened at the port; it was a beautiful day for an excursion, and Luffy, despite having returned days ago from a battle with Big Mom, was already bounding up and down the streets in pursuit of the kabob carts.

Marco paced the docks as the ugly yellow vessel grew closer. Sabo had contacted Robin and debriefed them about the events at Blackbeard's base, and Marco admittedly was impressed with the overall outcome. No serious casualties, it seemed, and Spade was safe. Marco would have never thought Law would be the one to take down Blackbeard, but he was fine with considering Law's debts paid. It was simply a matter of retrieving Haruta and Izou from Impel Down, and the Whitebeard Pirates would began their territorial expansion across the New World as a Yonkou once more.

"Nervous?" Robin joined him on the deck.

"Nah," Marco said. "Just fidgety."

"Same thing," the historian said. "I hope they're all in good shape. With Law on board, I'm sure they're doing well."

"Yeah. He's good at what he does."

Robin rested a hand on Marco's shoulder. "Spade's gone through a lot, and I know you feel accountable for it. She'll make a full recovery. You don't need to feel guilty about it."

Marco smiled wryly. "That ain't only thing I feel guilty 'bout."

Robin sighed. "It was one night, Marco. You seriously don't need to think about it that much."

It had been one night, but Marco wasn't great at one-night stands. He had grown accustomed to Robin's presence over the last several weeks. The most levelheaded and mature out of the Strawhat crew, she had been the official liaison from her crew, which had led to hours spent together discussing strategies, theories, and research. Robin was ridiculously intelligent, beautiful, and mysterious. It hadn't taken much for Marco to be rather enamored with the Devil Child of Ohara, but of course, that was a bad idea.

So yes, one night only, especially when the historian seemed so accustomed to this practice. Marco never brought up his feelings, partially because they were stupid, and partially because for how much he'd judged Law for hooking up with Eustass Kid while Spade was captured, Marco was doing the same thing. He could never vocalize his affection for Robin aloud, not when he needed to clear the air with Spade first.

Marco suddenly realized that Robin was laughing and turned to her with a frown.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing serious, I just find it funny…here you are, Marco the Phoenix, First Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates…a handsome and formidable man, yet you're so...shy."

"Shy?" Marco bristled.

Robin's eyes twinkled. "I just expected more bravado out of you. I prefer you this way though. You seem more…sincere about what you do."

"You mean who I do," he returned cheekily.

"Sure, sure," she waved her hand dismissively. "You don't have anything to feel guilty about, Marco. You said you and Spade weren't exclusive."

"Just feels weird with you two being friends."

"Yes, that's true," she admitted. "I'm sure she'll understand though. If not, I'll apologize."

The Polar Tang finally burst through the surface, bobbing like a rubber duck as it pulled into the dock. Marco motioned for his men to approach and assist, but there was no need. The Hearts were accustomed to functioning as a small and efficient team. With minimal orders, the vessel docked smoothly, the engines grew silent, and finally the doors opened.

Law emerged first, his notorious eye bags worse than ever, followed by his polar bear navigator and several of his men. He barely glanced at Marco when they touched land. Next came Bonney, looking oddly anxious, but she smiled at Marco and approached.

"You did it," he grinned, hugging her briefly.

"Yeah, was pretty brutal but we did it. Blackbeard's dead!" She looked elated. "Can't fucking believe it—it all happened so fast. Kid and Killer ran off though, dunno if you heard about it."

"No, I didn't."

"Yeah, they stole all of the Indigo Ring pills from the base and ran off with your ship."

Marco frowned. "They'll pay for that. How's Spade?"

Bonney looked anxious again. "She's…not great."

"How so?"

Before Bonney could respond, Aokiji emerged from the vessel, imposing and lanky as always. Marco seethed at the sight of him, but Aokiji did not look his way. Instead, he reached his hand back into the vessel, as if extending his aid to someone behind him, but was denied.

"I don't need your fucking help with everything, Kuzan."

Spade hobbled out of the Polar Tang on a crutch, wincing in the sunlight. Marco stared at her. Her hair was cropped short, barely reaching her chin. She was skinnier than he'd ever seen her and looked terribly small in her oversized hospital gown. She was wrapped from neck to thighs in bandages; she wobbled uneasily on her crutch, and when she gazed at him, he felt his stomach drop.

He had never seen her look so empty, even after Ace's death.

Marco remained in place, waiting patiently as Spade disembarked on her own. She made her way over to him slowly, but her expression bordered reluctant. She stopped several feet in front of him, breathing harshly, face covered in a thin layer of sweat.

Marco took a step forward. "Spade."

Her expression softened slightly. "Hey."

He wrapped her in his arms tightly, overwhelmed in a relief that he hadn't expected. It hadn't hit him until he saw her, just how close to the brink of death Spade had been, how close he had been to losing her. The knowledge of this possibility manifested as an acid that bubbled virulently inside him; Spade had almost died, and he hadn't taken a single step to save her.

"Marco," she gasped. "You're hurting me."

"What?" He wasn't squeezing her that hard.

"My back," she said, audibly pained.

Aokiji tugged Spade away by her shoulder, out of Marco's hold. Immediately, Marco grasped Spade's wrist and pulled her back, glaring daggers at Kuzan, who remained unperturbed with Marco's belligerence.

"You gotta lot of nerve, showin' up here," he growled.

"I can't fathom why," Aokiji said innocently. "Meanwhile, you're hurting her. Her back's a bit of a mess."

"My whole body's a mess," she said bitterly.

"What…" Marco didn't even know where to begin. "Your back? From Doflamingo?"

"Yeah, he thought it'd be cute to destroy my tattoo." Spade's voice was flat and her eyes looked dead. "I also can't use my Devil's Fruit or any Haki and I don't know why. I am literally an invalid."

"Yes, poor Skye," said Aokiji.

"I don't need your fucking sass right now, Aokiji."

Marco activated his Phoenix Flame and engulfed Spade's body in it. She attempted to jerk out of his hold but he held her still, waiting patiently as the flames licked over her skin, concentrating most over her torso. It was the longest healing Marco had seen from his flames yet, but when they finally disappeared, Spade looked stunned.

"What did you just do?" Aokiji said sharply, all jokes gone.

"I don't…it doesn't hurt anymore," Spade said breathlessly. "How the hell—you can heal others?"

"Fairly recent development," admitted Marco. "I first tried it on Law, before he set sail. Fixed his wrists. It only works sometimes though, and this was the first time it went on for so long—"

The remaining bit of Marco's sentence was lost on Spade, who whirled around to face Law, who was watching them impassively.

"You knew he could do this?!"

Law shrugged. "I forgot, honestly."

"You forgot— _he healed you_! You forgot Marco has the ability to heal someone completely?!"

Law was unfazed. "I had other things on my mind."

For the first time since she'd emerged from the Polar Tang, Spade didn't look lifeless, but the only emotion that lit her eyes was fury.

"This entire time I've been thinking that I wouldn't be able to do anything anymore, that I couldn't go back to normal. That time on the crow's nest…you couldn't have said something?"

Marco glanced briefly at Aokiji, but the Pheasant looked as bewildered with the conversation as he was.

"Miss Spade, the time has long past where your feelings have been any sort of priority of mine," Law said coolly. "The concept of recovering what I've lost is quite frankly one that I've been preoccupied with, but there is no operation or method to bring back the dead. So forgive me if I did not feel inclined to inform you just how easy it was for you to recover what you'd lost."

Spade's eyes burned with loathing. "So you just let me wallow in misery for fun then, you sick fuck."

"That's something you do on your own pastime without anyone else's encouragement," Law responded. "Whether or not I'd told you this detail wouldn't have made a difference." Law looked over to Marco. "My men and I will take over the eastern wing. We'll rest for the night, but tomorrow, we should discuss what we're going to do about Kaidou."

Law disappeared with his crew before Luffy could reach the port with a giant flank steak in one hand and a fried chicken thigh in the other, yelling "Trafal-guy! Ava! You're okay!" in excited oblivion. Marco looked at Spade uneasily, but her face had smoothed back into that deadened expression of nothing.

"I'm going to sleep too," she said. "I'll give you my report tomorrow."

"You don't need to worry about that right now."

Spade nodded and then evaporated into thin air, her presence disappearing in a gust of warm winds. Briefly, Marco wondered if it was better that she had returned at all.

* * *

Once in the safety and privacy of his own room, Law ate a delicious bowl of beef noodle soup and took a long, scalding shower. He typically did not mind being on his submarine for extended periods of time, but never had he been so relieved to reach land. He did not understand how, for how limited their contact was, Spade's presence was so stifling in containment. They needed distance, time apart long enough to both cool their heads and ignore each other enough until they became strangers again. There was nothing to gain in a relationship when both were so eager to wound the other. Distance would make the heart grow fonder—or maybe it could just kill any kind feelings to begin with.

So avoiding Spade when he could was Law's plan.

He stepped out of his bathroom, clothed in a black silk bathrobe embroidered with white swallows flirting on the collar. He stopped when he saw Spade sitting on his bed, smoking a cigarette.

Clearly, Spade's plan was to confront him until there was nothing but shattered glass.

"What are you doing here?" he said, toweling his hair dry.

"We need to do something about this," she said, gesturing her cigarette between them.

"About what?" He dropped his towel in the laundry hamper. "There's nothing to do, Miss Spade. We resent each other—it's an unfortunate but understandable reaction after everything we've gone through. Don't turn this into an ordeal."

"Then say what you really want to," she snapped.

"I already did, on the crow's nest."

"No." She took a step toward him. "Say what's sitting deep in that black heart of yours—it's not a matter of who lost more, Law, it's what you exchanged your losses for." Spade ground her cigarette out beneath her boot and approached him until she stared straight up at his face. "So say it. Say that it wasn't worth trading them for me."

"I didn't say that."

He attempted to move past her, but she grabbed him with impressive force and slammed him back against the wall. Marco's healing had clearly restored Spade's Haki back to working order as well.

"Fine," she snarled, "I'll do it then. All the shit I went through, it wasn't worth Blackbeard. It wasn't worth Doflamingo. My life wasn't worth that opportunity." Her grip on his collar tightened. "Your turn. I wasn't worth Ikkaku. I wasn't worth Uni. You shouldn't have saved me—it wasn't worth it."

Bile filled Law's mouth. He wanted to speak it aloud, these thoughts that had plagued him for so long. He wanted to say it: his life had been better before he'd met Skye Spade, Uni and Ikkaku would still be alive if he'd never met Skye Spade, their crew would still be whole if he'd never loved Skye Spade. It was all true—she was not worth it, because whatever pathetic remnants of their love could never hope to fill the vacuum in Law's crew, could never blunt the blows to his pride as a captain who had never prior failed his men.

But as Spade stared furiously up at him, he recognized the slightest trace of fear and self-doubt. She knew he felt this way, she just wanted the confirmation; it would be the final nail in the coffin, but what that nail sealed was unclear.

Law couldn't bring himself to drop the hammer.

He grabbed her by the waist and switched their positions, pushing her against the wall. Spade hissed and opened her mouth to snap but Law didn't want to hear it. He kissed her heatedly, teeth crashing against her lips as he forced his tongue in her mouth. How long had it been? She felt familiar in a more comforting way than Law imagined; his hands settled in their accustomed positions, one in her short hair to tug at her scalp and control her head as he needed, the other roaming the bandages around her now healed back.

Spade pushed against him only slightly before she kissed him back, angry and wild and uncaring. She pushed his robe off his shoulders and unfastened the belt. He was naked under his robe, and her fingers touched his navel, cool in contrast to his heat, before reaching lower and seizing his cock in her grip. Law groaned and bucked forward unconsciously against her fist. She pumped him roughly, unkindly, but Law responded easily to the treatment. Blood rushed to his groin eagerly and he was overcome with the basest urges that grief had suppressed; he let his control break, because he wanted nothing more than to be his meanest.

He pushed her hand away from his now-full erection and trapped both her wrists over her head. Spade's tongue thrashed against his, but he bit down on it and she moaned in pain, yielding to him. He slid his other hand under her gown, feeling the bandages under his fingertips. With the ease afforded by a brief Room, he removed her clothes and dressings in an instant. Perhaps Spade had not expected to be undressed so quickly, but her reactions were terribly slow as Law brought both hands to her thighs, lifted her off the ground, and forced her legs apart before he plunged his cock inside her with no further warning.

Spade yanked her head back and shouted in pain. Law ignored her and thrust forward, fixated cruelly on her expression as his grip on her thighs tightened. Her eyes were squinted shut and her mouth open in gasps. Law closed the gap between their lips and kissed her, open-mouthed, consuming, eyes open all the while. She was unbearably tight and not nearly as wet as she should've been for Law's full girth.

Spade opened her eyes and found him watching her; surprise melted quickly into disgust, and she leaned forward to grab a fistful of his hair and yank it back. Her teeth sank into his exposed neck and she bit down, _hard_ , just as Law pulled back and shoved inside her. Law hissed, almost certain that Spade had drawn blood at his neck and now likely at his back, as her left arm wrapped around him and dug its nails into his scapula. He readjusted his hold on her thighs, spread her wider, and rammed back into her. He was intentional with his movements, slow to pull back, swift to thrust in, ensuring that Spade knew and felt exactly how she was being used.

Films of sweat formed between them, making each movement slick and sudden. Law knew he was hurting her but found that he didn't care, and that Spade didn't either. She buried her face in his neck, noises that likely did not indicate pleasure muffled into his skin, nails carving deeply into his back as Law slammed repeatedly into her. His skin was on fire and his thoughts trapped in a heavy haze, but he undeniably felt _good_. This was the way he liked it—inconsiderate fucking, no mind games, no power play, just him dominating someone else—it didn't matter who it was.

He pulled out of her and pushed her back. She could barely stand on her own, but Law twisted her around and bent her over, pressing her face into the wall. Spade balanced herself just before Law gripped her hips and entered her again, his movements still rough and impersonal. The long hair Law liked so much was cut short now, and the famous Ace of Spades tattoo had disappeared into a blank expanse of smooth skin; Law did not even have to close his eyes to pretend that the woman he was fucking was a stranger, not someone he knew, or had loved, or even remotely cared about.

He could feel his climax build and lost himself in it. His thrusts grew faster, deeper, and he imagined briefly that this was how animals really fucked, just heat and desire, no need to dissect the deeper emotions of anger, hatred, resentment, fear—no, this was truly how a dog mated its bitch, sex and nothing more—the haze surrounding his thoughts grew denser and Law closed his eyes, letting all inhibition go—he neared his release, his movements were irregular and he anticipated the blinding pleasure he would soon be rewarded with—

"Stop."

The word came almost inaudibly, but it pierced through his mental fog like a sharp and well-aimed spear. Law's eyes snapped open and he froze immediately, sheathed completely inside her, palms still at her hips. He was panting, his gaze fixated on that unblemished back, untouched by ink, the skin of a stranger.

He was still for so long that he thought for certain he had imagined Spade say anything. Perhaps it had been his conscience; perhaps it had been nothing at all. Law's erection was painful. He was teetering on the very edge of the precipice for release, yet not a single muscle dared to chase that desire.

"Get out of me," she said, voice steady but quiet.

Law obeyed, releasing her and stepping backward. He was hypersensitive to the temperature and his cock was engorged and flushed against his stomach. He desperately wanted to come, but he did not make a move. Spade straightened up and turned around slowly, expression guarded and neutral.

But something about her gaze looked relieved.

And it struck him—this had been her intention all along. Their entire dynamic since leaving Blackbeard's base had been a competition, but not just for pity. It was an assertion of power, an attempt to re-establish their old boundaries; in the throes of what had felt like Law's one-sided dominance over her, Spade had tested and successfully recaptured her power with a single word.

"You actually stopped," she said. "I…almost didn't think you would."

"Of course I would," he snapped, exposed and uncomfortable. "What kind of person do you think I am?"

"With the way we were fucking just now, not so much a person as much as a dog."

Law gritted his teeth, hating how calm she was when he was so much more visibly vulnerable.

"Were you testing me?" he demanded.

She didn't answer. She simply walked towards him, eyes careful, and wrapped her palm around his shaft. Law nearly jumped at the stimulation, but he stopped her ministrations.

"What the fuck—"

"Don't worry," she said simply. "I'll get you off."

She sank down to her knees, retaining eye contact with him all the while. She pumped him agonizingly slowly; her palm slid to the base of his cock and rested.

"This was how your fantasy began, right?" she whispered.

"You don't—"

She opened her mouth and Law almost came right at the sight of her lips wrapping around his dick. _Fuck yes_ , he had imagined this in his head so many times but nothing compared to this reality. Her mouth was hot and wet, and she was careful with her teeth as she slowly advanced, tongue swirling over the tip of him before it licked up the side. Law moaned and wrapped his hand around the back of her head, egging her forward but cautious not to force her. Spade bobbed her head up and down his shaft, taking more and more with every round, until he felt the tip of his manhood touch the back of her throat. The delicate muscles in her throat quivered, and Spade only had to hum a single note before Law, who had been holding his erection for far too long at this point, lost all restraint immediately. He came inside her mouth, and Spade, completely unprepared for it, began to swallow hastily. Law was apologetic but could barely materialize that sentiment; his release had been delayed for so long that the force of his orgasm nearly knocked him out. When he caught his breath, Spade had already straightened up and was wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I didn't expect it so fast," she said, lips swollen and face flushed. "You're lucky I didn't bite your dick off. Give me warning next time."

Law leaned against the edge of his table, still winded. "You were testing me."

"Sort of." She pulled on her underwear and shorts. "You passed, if that makes you feel any better."

"You did all of that just so you could have control over me in that kind of context?" he said, disgusted.

"Control?" Spade pulled her shirt over her head. "Don't be stupid, Law. It wasn't about power or control. I was just proving a point to myself."

She walked back to him and reached for his hand. He gave it to her reluctantly, but an odd warmth settled in his chest as she traced the letters tattooed on his fingers.

"What was that point?"

Spade didn't answer immediately. "I always said you were like Doflamingo. But I wanted to prove that wrong. After all, Doflamingo never stopped." Her eyes flickered up at him. "You did. Low bar for a distinction, but you get my point."

"And the blowjob?"

Spade laughed, but it didn't sound genuine. "Your reward. Classical conditioning, you know." She looked miserable. "Right, I'm going back to my room now. Goodnight, Law."

"Don't be ridiculous," he said shortly, stopping her.

"You can't be serious. What you did just now was hate fuck me, Law. You don't have to pretend like you feel anything else about it—"

"Uni and Ikkaku died for me," he interrupted, and Spade's mouth promptly fell shut. "They died for their captain, _me_ , not you. I didn't trade them for you."

Spade seemed frightened with his assertion. He brought a hand up to her cheek, the first physical gesture of kindness since her retrieval.

"It's been hard," he said quietly. "And I have…resented you for it. But the truth of the matter is that they were my responsibility. Not yours. It wasn't a transaction, Spade. It was a sacrifice, and it was unlucky. But I do not regret saving you. I said I would do it if it was the last thing I did…so I did it."

He kissed her gently and tugged her into a loose embrace. Something in Spade seemed to break; her entire body finally relaxed in his arms, and she kissed him back carefully. When they broke apart, Spade was smiling through tears.

Her plan had been the right one. Confrontation until all that was left was shattered glass, but then at least they'd be breathing the same air, standing in the same room, finally in the same place.


	25. Empty Air

**Chapter 25: Empty Air**

The rare break of sunshine in Wano stretched on, peeking through the wooden blinds and bathing the bed in warmth. Birdsong was audible only because the room was so quiet otherwise. The mattress was soft and the covers freshly laundered. It was the smell of breakfast—sweet tofu soup and pork buns—that gradually roused Spade from sleep. What a gentle way to wake up, with no sudden jolts from nightmares, no rising panic and breaks of sweat. She opened her eyes slowly, feeling very safe and uncomfortably pain-free, until she saw Law lying on the futon next to her, arms crossed under his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

Spade shot up, heart racing and head pounding at the sight of him. She was in danger, this peace was just a façade and he was going to hurt her any moment now—

At her sudden movement, Law turned lazily to face her. He seemed to understand her reaction, for he did not make any indication to move closer to her.

"Good morning," he said quietly.

His voice soothed her, and she was quite certain Law knew this, for there was no other reason for him to be so talkative first thing in the morning.

"I won't hurt you," he continued. "You should know that by now. I asked you to stay here after we fucked yesterday. We talked, remember? Cleared the air. Figured out…" He gestured between them, reminiscent of her actions the day before, "whatever this is between us."

"Yeah," she said, catching her breath. She brought a hand over her eyes. "Yeah, I remember."

He gave her several minutes of silence to calm down. Spade thought back to the night before—yes, that had all been of her own volition, despite how rough Law had been. She remembered how carefully he'd held her afterward, how gentle he'd been when they slid under the covers together.

"Are you all right now?" he asked.

"Yeah. I just…panicked for a second."

Law scooted closer and peered up at her. Spade let her hands drop into her lap. He reached over for one of them and pressed his lips to her palm. She shuddered, and Law let go, expression guarded as he leaned back against his arms.

He was beautiful in the sunlight. She'd been so terrified of his presence for so long now that Spade had nearly forgotten just how gorgeous Law was. Curved muscles, sharp collarbones, lines of clean ink decorating his godly torso. Law had beautiful eyes too, like flint that could ignite into a blaze with the right incentive. She sighed a bit, content with simply looking at him and not being overcome by the desire to run.

Law was thinking hard about something. "What can I do?"

"About what?"

"You being frightened of me," he answered. "You jump at the slightest sight of me. I can tell you always have to convince yourself that you don't need to be scared."

She gave a hollow laugh. "It's just a matter of time, right? Until the conditioning wears off."

"Partly." Law sat up so that they were face to face. "Maybe it's a matter of rewriting the conditioning as well."

He made a movement to kiss her, but she instinctively drew away. Something dark flashed through his eyes, but he did not pursue her.

"Sorry," she said breathlessly.

"Don't be. I understand." He rolled off the futon and headed for the bathroom. "I'll see you at breakfast."

Spade nodded, but Law did not see. There was not the same level of hostility between them as before, but she could not shake the feeling that Law was disappointed in her reaction. If Spade were being honest with herself, she did not blame him.

* * *

Marco met with Spade alone first thing after breakfast. They didn't stay in his office, but instead went up to the roof by Marco's suggestion. He always knew the little things that put her at ease.

The sun was brilliant and the wind wonderfully cool. The sight of calm ocean extending as far as the eye could see connoted a freedom that Spade could not fully wrap her head around. She could fly as far as she wanted to, and there were no chains holding her back, no strings manipulating her every motion. The prospect of such autonomy almost frightened her; part of her expected to be lurched back and slammed into the ground, reminded of gravity and an oppressive force greater than she.

They sat in silence for several minutes, Marco just watching her awkwardly, while Spade fixated on the ocean. Maybe Kaidou was only a few knots away. Maybe the Marines were readying a surprise attack on Wano. Either way, Spade found it difficult to give a fuck. The moment her brain began to process the endless permutations of the future, a fog settled over her thoughts like a tacky gum that trapped her gears. She was tired, aimless, and apathetic. She felt very detached from her body, this physical vessel that had failed her in these last few months. Despite Marco's miraculous healing, she still felt broken in a way she couldn't quite express, a toy cobbled back into a functioning piece despite serving no purpose. The only thing that she felt acutely was the ache between her legs, a reminder of Law and her patched up tattered relationship that still had no explanation.

"I should've come for you," Marco said, finally breaking the silence.

"Don't be stupid."

"Nothing happened here. I sat on my ass and just waited while you…" Marco let out a frustrated noise that made Spade hurt. "Kaidou didn't even come."

"It was the right decision regardless," she muttered. "You know it was. _I_ know it was."

"Still feels like shit."

"Yeah." A gentle breeze blew. "It does."

Marco laughed weakly and reached for her. When his hand found hers, Spade did not pull away.

"It wasn't the right decision," he whispered. "You're my responsibility."

"No. I'm not." She squeezed his hand. "I'm not a Whitebeard. You're not my captain. You…you don't owe me anything."

"After everything we've been through—"

"It's not the same. We're friends, Marco, and we have a long and complicated history. I'm your informant, your scout, but I'm not part of your crew, and you aren't my captain, no matter how many times we've joked about it before. I'm no one's responsibility."

She pulled her hand away from his and rubbed it with her other palm, trying to warm up her fingertips. She avoided his gaze.

"Are you Aokiji's?" he asked.

She laughed, and it rang hollow. "Of course. Why raise a weapon for years and years and let it break prematurely? He needs to take care of his investments."

"And Law?"

Spade's gaze softened. "He had an obligation. He repaid it."

"How are you guys now?"

"I have no idea." She ran a hand through her hair out of habit, surprised when her fingers grasped emptiness around her shoulder. It had been a long time since her hair had been cut so short. "I don't know where I am with anyone anymore."

Spade finally looked at Marco and wished she hadn't. Marco's face was twisted into edges of regret, and every muscle in his body was tense with grief and guilt.

"Hey," she whispered, touching his shoulder.

"No, you're not fuckin' comfortin' me," he said, turning to face her. He wasn't crying, thankfully. "I'm not—you're not—you're a lot—"

He was clearly having difficulty with his words, and it made Spade smirk a little.

"Any day now, Marco."

"I'm pissed!" he shouted. Spade jumped in place slightly, caught completely off guard. "I'm so fuckin' pissed off at you, Spade, and you're too fucked up for me to even yell at you properly!"

"Pissed…pissed off at _me_?" she gaped. "What the fuck for?!"

"Who the fuck said you could make that deal with Aokiji? And don't act like you didn't discuss it with him before—you should've run that fucking plan by me, you should've _never_ been in a situation where Kuzan could manipulate you like that because _you fucking had me_. I would've never said yes, I would've never let you play some stupid sacrificial part because I would've never jeopardized you like that! I'm pissed because you should've run it by me, but like you said, I'm not your captain, you don't owe me anything, you don't have to listen to my orders, and then I get pissed at myself because I shouldn't have been such a coward all these years and should've became captain like I was supposed to instead of letting us run around without any kinda definition because you are my goddamn responsibility, Spade, no matter what." Marco's voice had deflated like a popped balloon. "Ace left you to me."

Spade had felt rather apologetic for her poor decision-making up to Marco's last sentence. Her temper, mercurial as of late, simmered to a boiling point and tipped over.

"I'm not some poor damsel in distress being _left_ to be taken care of," she snapped. "I'm not this…this baggage left behind! Ace didn't _leave_ me to you—for fuck's sake, he didn't understand what kind of danger we were in up to the moment he fucking died."

Marco brought a hand up to his forehead, clearly regretting the direction of the argument. "That wasn't my point."

"We never had definitions because we never needed them, Marco," she snarled, bulldozing his feeble resistance. "Regardless if you were captain of the Whitebeards, I wouldn't have been your crewmate! I never swore Whitebeard an oath, I never saw him as my captain. I was Hurricane, Marco, I was the goddamn queen of the Underworld and there was no way you could've ever taken responsibility of me because your men could barely stomach the idea of having even an Underworld contact! We had no definition because it worked for us—it got you what you wanted, and if shit hit the fan like it so clearly did…you wouldn't need to be obligated to pick up the pieces and clean up the mess."

Marco didn't answer. He just looked at her, wounded but defenseless, with an expression that Spade didn't know how to handle. Marco was her unequivocal support and vice versa—she was not supposed to be the one tearing him down so eagerly. Something burning lodged in her throat and she looked away from him, brushing her eyes as she did. She was so angry, but it wasn't even at Marco, it was just the residual fury that constantly festered inside her now, swift to strike and maim as it saw fit. She wanted safety in someone, and she thought it'd be in Marco, but clearly she was mistaken.

"I made a choice," she whispered. "Maybe it was a bad one. Maybe Aokiji convinced me when he shouldn't have. But I did what I did, and it wasn't your obligation to stop me. Just like it's not your obligation to fix me now."

Marco opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, and he closed it promptly. Spade stared out at the open sea blankly, suddenly very tired even though she'd woken up only several hours ago. She felt hollow and overwhelmed all at once, yearning for something she couldn't quite identify, but some part of her mind thought of Law's arms around her and tha-thump of his heart against hers.

"If it's not my responsibility," Marco said finally, "then whose is it?"

"Why should it be anyone's, when it was my choice?"

Marco didn't answer. He let the silence, punctuated only by the waves and occasional seagull's caw, a buoyed whisper of nothingness. Then, he took Spade's wrist and tugged her back toward him. She collapsed against his chest and his arms wrapped around her body tightly. Phoenix flame engulfed them both, and she felt the cool fire lick under her skin, intrusive in a way she hadn't expected, as it burned deep inside her, searching for something to fix. Marco let his flames speak for him, and Spade had nothing to say in return as the fire sought for an obvious wound and, when it found nothing, simply settled in her vacancy.

* * *

Spade spent the rest of the morning on the rooftop alone. Marco left to lead a meeting to determine the next course of action, now that it was unlikely for Kaidou to attack Wano any time soon. Despite Spade's questionably safe return, the issue of Izou and Haruta's imprisonment loomed over the Whitebeards, and Marco did not want to delay their rescue any longer. Spade was not uninvited to the meeting, but Marco also did not ask her to attend. He understood to some capacity where Spade's headspace was.

Still, it was difficult for her to be idle. As much as she wanted to not care, Spade dealt poorly with being aimless. It didn't take long for her to pilfer an Interceptor Den-Den Mushi from the library and flip through Underworld channels listlessly, more out of habit than necessity, especially when information was so baseless. She let the channels play static as the news gull arrived, but the newspaper was fairly useless as well, stating only information that she already knew.

"Anything important?"

Robin climbed over the wall onto the roof fluidly. She sat down next to Spade and offered her a small container that smelled absolutely divine.

"Meat buns," she explained. "Pork and beef, if you want some."

"Thanks." Spade took the box gratefully. "There's been nothing new. Why aren't you at the meeting?"

"There are enough Strawhats to delegate the work," Robin said cheerily. "I thought I could take a break. Marco thought you could do with the company."

"Marco sent you?"

"He didn't _send_ me," Robin chided. "He merely suggested."

"I don't need—"

"Spade, please. Just let people care for you, all right?"

Spade bit into a steaming hot bun and nearly scalded herself in the process.

"Shit." She spat out the bite.

"Not to your taste?"

"No, it's fine. Just burnt myself." She ran her tongue over her teeth and winced as the tip of her tongue seared.

Robin was amused. "See, this is why you need people to take care of you."

Spade waited silently for her meal to cool down. Robin did not attempt to force further conversation, instead waiting patiently for Spade to contribute her end.

"There's no point," Spade said finally, "in people taking care of me. I don't…no one owes me that."

"We all owe you that," said Robin. "That's what friends do, they take care of each other."

"Yeah, but what if it's between your friend and your captain? Your friend or your crewmate? You have to make choices sometimes, Robin, and I don't want to make that decision hard. It shouldn't be, not when you've sworn loyalty."

"It's not your choice whether that decision is hard or not," the historian returned. "It's going to be hard regardless. Marco made a decision that would've ended in guilt no matter what—you don't need to try and wish that guilt away. You need to accept it. Find a solution for it, not pretend it doesn't or shouldn't exist."

Spade looked at her suspiciously. "Were you eavesdropping?"

"No, of course not. Marco was upset after your conversation, and I made some deductions."

Spade narrowed her eyes. "You seem to understand Marco quite well."

Robin shrugged. "To be honest, he's not a complicated person. Law is much harder to read."

Sometimes, Spade couldn't explain just how her mind worked or made assumptions, but the words fell out of her mouth with a conviction she could not doubt.

"You and Marco are fucking, aren't you?"

Spade did not sound angry or accusatory, but behind Robin's amusement was the barest flicker of wariness.

"How'd you get there?" Robin said wryly.

"Because I know his type. He likes a puzzle." Spade sat up so she could face Robin properly. "It also explains just how weirdly guilty he's been."

"Are you mad?"

Spade laughed, but it rang untrue. "I'm not allowed to be mad, Robin. Marco and I weren't anything exclusive."

"For fuck's sake, just because there are no labels doesn't mean you're not allowed to feel things," Robin said coolly. "If you're upset, just say you are!"

Spade bit her already sore tongue. "I'm not mad. I'm annoyed, but it'll go away."

"You don't need to be annoyed," Robin said. "It was a one time thing."

Spade frowned. "Marco doesn't really do one time things."

"We've been stressed and needed to decompress, that was it," Robin said firmly. "We're friendly and we enjoy each other, but that's it."

"Not for Marco. If you know him well, then you should know that about him. He's not like Law."

The amusement had all but disappeared from Robin's face. "I wasn't looking for—"

"It's none of my business," interrupted Spade. "You two figure it out. Just don't ignore it. Marco deserves better than that, and I'll be more annoyed if you hurt him."

Robin let out an exasperated breath. "Fine. I'll talk to him about it." She reached over for one of Spade's pork buns. They ate in silence for several minutes, enjoying the fresh air and sound of the ocean. Spade hadn't been lying about her irritation going away; she could feel it withering away with every passing second. There was truthfully nothing to be angry about, and nothing between her and Marco had changed. Their problems remained, and their fundamentals were unchanged.

"We should probably stop sleeping with the same men, shouldn't we?" Robin said suddenly.

She looked slyly over at Spade, who tried her best to keep a straight face. At the sight of Robin's creeping smile, though, Spade burst out laughing, joined quickly by Robin's chuckles. She felt slightly lighter, and she realized that Robin had somehow managed to treat her in a way Spade couldn't have explicitly verbalized: normally, unapologetically, freely.

* * *

She took advantage of dinnertime to slip back into the sleeping quarters, intending to retire early without giving anyone a chance to interrogate her. The corridors were empty and the prospect of a bath relaxing. Spade made her way to her room, but paused when she got to Law's room.

She wasn't sure why she stopped. She wasn't sure if she wanted to knock. She wasn't sure of what she wanted. Sex? Company? Cuddling? She couldn't justify any of them. Was she safe with Law now? No, fear didn't disappear so quickly. There were so many reasons to be angry with him still, and she wasn't prepared to let all of them go.

Still. She didn't know what she wanted of him. She just knew she wanted him.

"Everything all right, Miss Spade?"

Spade startled and turned to find Law looking at her with a peculiar expression on his face.

"Yeah. Yeah, sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for."

"Shouldn't you be at dinner?"

"I ate earlier. I'd rather sleep early, take advantage of the quiet while I can." He approached her and reached for the door handle to his room. "Should I invite you in?"

She gave him an appraising look, which he returned with a half-smirk.

"I'm being considerate, Miss Spade," he explained.

"Well, it's creepy," she said. "You don't need to act unlike yourself, you know."

"Would you rather me grab you and shove you into the room, because I can do that too."

"Just open the damn door, Law."

He obliged and she followed him inside. The room was not terribly well furnished, with a single futon in the center of the tatami mats and a small desk to the left-hand side. A small wardrobe sat in the opposite corner of the room. Without any other options, Spade boldly sat on the mattress, unsure of what to ask for and what to expect.

"You weren't at the meeting," Law remarked, heading first for his closet. He took off his cap and placed it carefully on the counter.

"Marco didn't ask me to go, and I didn't want to."

"Do you want updates?"

"No." He arched an eyebrow at her, and she scowled. "Maybe later."

Law pulled his shirt over his head. "Don't do this to yourself, Spade."

"Do what?"

"Take yourself out of the picture," he said. "You aren't the type to sit idly. Miss too much, and people will stop considering you as a player."

"Maybe I don't want to be one anymore."

Law dropped his shirt in the laundry hamper and proceeded to remove his trousers. Spade unabashedly watched the clothes slip off his skin, revealing lines of muscle and ink, appreciating the view as Law straightened up with his cat-like grace and ran a hand through his hair. He made his way over to the mattress in nothing but his boxers and sat down next to her.

"You don't mean that," he said. "There's still much to be done."

"I'm tired." She looked down at her hands. "It took me so much time and energy to build up what I had before. I don't think I have it in me to do it again."

"You don't have to rebuild the same thing. The Underworld will disappear without you or the Joker. Perhaps that's not a bad option."

"The Underworld will never disappear—there will always be a need for a black market. Someone else can fill my shoes." She lied down fully. "I'm not irreplaceable."

Law sighed. "Don't wallow in your self-pity. It's unsightly."

The words stung more than they should have, but she did not have a good response. She knew that she was irritating everyone, including herself, but she couldn't help it. She needed time to process and recover, and resuming her role as Hurricane or whatever force she'd been before felt like an impossible burden to bear.

"How are you okay?" she said hollowly.

"I never said I was."

"You're functioning," she said. "You're…you're calm. And after everything you went through, from Doflamingo to losing your crewmates…I just don't understand how you can think about next steps."

"I'm good at hiding my insecurities." He climbed over her, careful with his weight, and leaned down so that their foreheads touched. "You of all people should be able to see through my façades."

"I really can't tell right now," she said weakly.

"That's nonsense. There's no other reason that you barged in here yesterday to confront me." His lips brushed hers. "The only reason I am calm today is because of what transpired last night."

His voice dropped lower, and briefly his eyes flitted away from hers and he looked uncertain. The expression was as transient as the flicker of a flame. He looked at her again with renewed resolve.

"I think we've both underestimated the effect you have on me," he said very quietly. "When our circumstances are unsettled, I am disrupted to the roots of my very being. I didn't quite understand until after what happened last night, and I'm…I've been able to be calmer today."

"You think we're just fixed now?" she whispered.

Law scoffed. "I'm not so naïve. Your reaction to me this morning proved that we're hardly normal. But still. Compared to how things were before, I am not complaining."

He cradled her cheek with one hand and kissed her, with a careful purpose and intention that left Spade irritated but simultaneously wanting more. She opened her mouth against his and his tongue slipped into her mouth, intrusive and deep but tender. Law had always been a good kisser, but they had never really spent time solely making out, not when sex was an option. Now, though, Law made no move to progress further than kissing her deeply, exploring her mouth with a gentle diligence that he hadn't possessed before.

Before, she would've been annoyed. _I don't need you to treat me like I'm going to break._ But now, she appreciated it. His gentleness wasn't a result of pity; it was deliberate and methodical, an attempt to break down her guard and prove that any fright wasn't warranted.

She kissed him back deeply, enjoying herself as his hands found their way under her clothes and removed them, meticulous in their exploration. He touched her slowly but not shyly; her body was familiar territory to him, and his touch lingered with a comfort that she sank into. His weight didn't feel oppressive, but instead enveloped her in safe warmth that she opened up to. Her legs spread and his body settled easily between them. He leaned to the side, and in a combination of her own volition and Law's encouragement, Spade found herself sitting on Law's lap, arms linked loosely around his neck. He lied back fully, letting her weight rest against his chest, as they continued to kiss unhurriedly. Law's hands wandered her thighs, found her bottom and slid under her thin panties, tracing senseless patterns and leaving heat in its wake.

She broke off the kiss to mouth down his cheek, feeling the scruff of his manicured beard, before her lips settled in the hollow of his neck. Her tongue traced the ridge of Law's clavicles, leaving marks as she liked, while Law's hands roamed her backside. Spade slipped her hand down his chest and under his boxers to take his length into her palm. She rested her chin on his chest, watching his eyes slide half-shut and his mouth open slightly as she touched him slowly, fingers running over the head of his cock and then back to the base. It wasn't particularly late but they were both sleepy, and their touch was relaxed. Spade took her time with him, waiting patiently for Law's arousal to perk up before attending to his balls with a firm gentleness. She rolled him in her palm and Law let out a sigh.

"Good?" she murmured.

"Slow." Law curved upward so he could kiss her. "You should ride me."

She laughed against his lips. "I didn't think you liked being on the bottom."

"And you don't usually like giving—" He gasped when she seized his cock suddenly, "—head."

"Usually, no." She slid lower, trailing her lips down his chest until she was level with his half-hard length. "Maybe you changed my mind."

She took him into her mouth and Law groaned. He shuffled and rested on his elbows so he could watch her, gray eyes swallowed by pupil and an undeniable hunger in them. She knew what he wanted to do—he'd told her before, after all, and knew that it was taking every bit of self-control Law had not to grip her neck in place and fuck her throat roughly. This pace was unusual for them and she understood that it was intentional. Law wanted Spade in control, for once; he wanted to let her do what she liked while proving she had no retaliation to fear. No matter that Law's hands had already formed fists in the sheets and he was shaking with the tension of holding back.

She began to take more of him, up and down, tongue tracing the head and tasting the salty fluid of his arousal. Her palm continued to fondle his testicles as she felt Law grow in her mouth; she was too tired to try and take all of him and attended what she couldn't fit with her other hand. Law was panting harshly by now, over-stimulated but controlled, and Spade continued, overwhelmed with Law's taste, his musky scent, his heat. Her eyes met his, and she was struck again by how—what was the term Robin had used—oh, yes, _pretty_ he was. The sight of Law holding himself back, on the edge of breaking, sent a rush through Spade that settled in her lower abdomen in a heated knot.

"Spade," he said, voice shaking.

She understood. She detached from him and crawled over him, licking her lips as they scooted face-to-face. Law's hands found their way to the curves of her hips, and he was doing his best not to seem to pushy but was failing because there was an undeniable pressure on her waist, urging her to sit on him.

Spade kissed him and he returned the action hungrily. He pressed her body lower as his own hips thrust upward; she felt his erection, hard and full, brush her thigh and she grinned.

"You're so eager." She pushed him down so that he was flat on his back. She brushed his nipples lightly, and the action made him buck upward with a moan. "Okay, okay…"

She peeled off her underwear, took his hot erection in her grip, and guided him inside her slowly. Thank God she was wet; the ache between her legs from the night before was not insignificant, and she bit her lower lip to muffle a whimper as she eased around him gradually. Law's nails dug into her skin. She was going slowly, much too slowly for his comfort, but she was controlling the pace right now and her needs came first. If Law followed his instinct, Spade would be in tears and screaming into the pillow.

But of course, Law did no such thing. He simply watched her, his face flushed, but his eyes had a glint in them that she did not know how to interpret.

She finally sank down fully around him, gasping with sensation. She felt full but not painfully so; Law fit inside her with a familiarity that Spade was beginning to remember. She began to move up and down, her hands resting on his shoulders as leverage. The motions made Law groan and he began to move with her, carefully and thoughtfully. When they reached a good, even pace, he changed his angle and hit a spot inside her that made her throw her head backward in a moan. Shocks of pleasure reverberated from her core outward, and though their pace did not quicken, their movements gained a depth that they didn't have before. The slow, nearly lazy fuck allowed them to settle and squirm in sensation that they hadn't dwelled on previously. Law felt so fucking _good_ fully sheathed inside her, and he looked incredible underneath her, his mouth curled in a sly smirk, his gray eyes alive now that they were moving at a more bearable pace.

"You look good like this," he said huskily. "What a view."

She should've been past the point of shame, but Spade blushed. The sight of her embarrassment only made Law grin wider.

"I think I like this," he said, almost teasing. "You doing the work."

"Shut up," she said breathlessly.

"Mm. Can't believe I've missed out on this for so long."

She rolled her hips, taking him deeply, before grinding to a halt. Law let out a hiss, but Spade grabbed his hair and leaned close to his ear.

"I said. Shut up."

She began her movements again, small ones, slowly, and Law groaned as he yielded to her pace. She took one of his earrings into her mouth and tugged on the metal with her teeth, the metallic coolness soothing her sensitive tongue. The sound of Law's gasp, the feeling of his hands, one on her breast, one on her backside, the heat they shared filled her senses as the rest of the world blotted from her consciousness. She quickened her pace and Law released a breath in relief. She kissed him briefly before straightening up so she could ride him with full control. Law met her hips with perfectly timed thrusts, the speed built, and Spade kept her eyes on Law even as her vision blurred and her thoughts grew muddled by the pleasure inundating her. Law's own eyes were closed, lost in the moment, and Spade felt her senses heighten in anticipation of watching him come. This was an easy association to make—Law, sex, pleasure—and she was in control, Law was at her mercy so there was nothing to worry about—she could let go, just let go—

Doflamingo sneered at her from underneath, and it was as if she'd been doused in icy water, violently awakened and all traces of her arousal disappeared.

She watched with uncomfortable clarity as Law, unaware of anything, reached his own orgasm and released inside of her. She felt the warmth spill between her legs and shuddered, nauseous with the familiarity of the sensation, reminded of how it felt to be used. She moved off of him quickly. Law, foggy in his post-orgasmic state, still somehow noticed.

"Hey," he said, grabbing her wrist as she tried to scoot off the mattress.

"I have to go," she said, forcing her voice to remain level.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing you can fix." She grabbed the articles of clothing scattered around the floor. "Just—I need to be alone."

Law sat up behind her and placed his hand over hers while his other arm wrapped around her waist. He gently tugged her clothes out of her grasp and placed them back on the floor.

"That sounds like a bad idea," he said quietly.

Spade let out a wracking sob, refusing to move forward or backward. She had been so convinced, had glimpsed the barest sense of control and the freedom to let it go on her own accord, only to have it shattered by someone who wasn't even there, who probably wasn't even alive. The flashbacks she had of Ace's death were terrible, but these were worse: all-consuming, paralyzing, maddening.

Law held her tightly from behind.

"It will take time," he whispered. "Longer than you can imagine. But you will heal. I'll make sure of it. I promise."

He interlaced his fingers with hers, his dark skin making a pretty pattern with hers. She read D-blank-E-blank-A-blank-T-blank-H-blank and did not miss the irony of how reading DEATH made her calmer.

* * *

Law knocked on the door and politely waited to hear "Come in" before pushing it open. Marco sat behind his desk, which was surrounded by Jozu, Vista, and Blenheim. Empty trays of food were piled in the corner of the room and the remnant odor of meat drenched in savory sauce wafted through the room; they'd clearly had a working dinner.

"Need something, Law?" Marco said, surprised.

"A word, if you will."

Marco glanced at the other Whitebeard commanders. "Now? We're in the middle of something."

"Then I'll make this quick," Law said coolly. "I'm going to ask Spade to join my crew."

The Whitebeards stared at him. The silence was broken by Vista's sudden outburst of laughter.

"What the fuck? Yeah, real good one, Law, super funny…as if you could convince Spade to leave Marco."

"I actually don't imagine it would be terribly difficult," Law said. "I'm rather surprised that this would come as a shock—surely you've considered the possibility."

"No," Jozu said gravely, "we thought you had more honor than to poach a crewmember. Do you know what kind of offense you're suggestin'?"

"It's hardly an offense when she is not your crewmate," he returned.

Jozu's face darkened. "She—"

"If you have doubts about what I just said, you should ask Blenheim what Spade is to the Whitebeards, and that should vindicate me," Law interrupted.

"Don't bring me into this," Blenheim said gruffly.

"Why?" Law retorted. "Don't you represent a fair faction of the Whitebeards who refuse to accept Spade's role as a Whitebeard affiliate because of her Underworld dealings? It must be nice to adamantly remain on the side of moral justice while benefiting from all the dirty work you righteously condemn."

"Law," said Marco sharply.

But Law was past the point of giving a fuck. He wanted nothing more than to be rid of the Whitebeards. The majority of the morning meeting had been a longwinded discussion of how to save Izou and Haruta, which was fine, except Law felt no desire to contribute to another escape mission. He had just taken down a Yonkou, and there were multiple vacuums in existing power structures that he'd rather take advantage of; playing the hero yet again was none of Law's concern. His goal was to find One Piece, just like Ikkaku and Uni wanted him to. To accomplish that goal, Law wanted the Underworld, and to achieve that, he needed Spade by his side.

This reasoning, of course, was further justified by the fact that Law simply wanted Spade, and upon having her, would never let her go. He hadn't been lying to Spade; when they hated each other, Law was rattled to the center of his being. When they were reconciled, Law felt whole in a way he had understood he'd been searching for since his childhood.

He knew why. He also knew better than to voice that reason aloud.

"Let me be clear," Law said, the picture of calm despite that he had four Whitebeard commanders glaring daggers at him. "I am not here to ask for your permission. It is purely out of polite, gracious courtesy that I am giving you a notice. I want Spade on my crew. I am not afraid of her Underworld dealings—if anything, under my captainship, she'd get more support from the Hearts than she ever got from you lot. I've already asked my men, and they are more than willing to have her join. I merely need Spade's consent—your opinions are, for lack of a better word, irrelevant."

"You lil—"

"Fine," Marco said, eyes closing in acquiescence. "Ask her."

"Marco, you can't be serious," Jozu said in disbelief.

"None of his argument is wrong," said the Phoenix serenely. "He has every right to ask, and Spade has every right to consider the offer."

Law had expected a bit more resistance from him, but Marco appeared weary and unwilling to fight. He only stared at Law, his blue eyes unblinking and penetrating in a violating way.

"That's not your only reason, is it?" Marco's question, cryptic and accusatory, was directed to Law alone.

Law didn't answer. Marco laughed slightly, deeming his silence satisfactory, and waved him out.

"Good luck, then."

* * *

The days passed at the pace of a Mushi's crawl. Spade did not mind. Even though her nights blended into days, sleeping with Law always granted her several hours of sleep smattered throughout the day, and it was enough for her to regain a weak rein over herself. She tried to establish a routine, nothing too strenuous—cardio exercise with Underworld news in the morning, then breakfast, then World Government news, then strength training before lunch. Her afternoons were spent on Haki meditation, which she begrudgingly shared with Aokiji. The two of them exchanged the barest minimum of words; Kuzan was still cautious around her, and Spade was still resentful. Nonetheless, her fight with Doflamingo had unlocked a dam of hidden Haki that Spade had never imagined she'd have. Aokiji, pleased with his investment, was eager to hone it further.

Spade was, of course, thinking too poorly of him.

Her meals and free time were spent largely with the Hearts. It didn't make a lot of sense; she should've been overjoyed to be reunited with Marco and the Whitebeards, but Marco and the other friendly commanders seemed crippled in his interactions with her. The Whitebeards who'd resented her so much before now did not know how to express their hostility when Spade's Underworld dealings had yielded the death of Blackbeard. Spade hung around Robin occasionally, but found it difficult to interact with the Strawhats normally without feeling the pressure to address the hovering question of what had happened during her captivity. It was a question she did want to answer and an answer that she was quite certain the Strawhats could not handle.

She oddly enough felt none of that pressure or awkwardness with the Hearts. She felt guilty the first few days—surely they held her accountable for Uni and Ikkaku's deaths—but there was never any indication of the matter. She shouldn't have doubted. If a crew could love Law this much, then forgiveness came as second nature.

Which left Law himself. Something had changed fundamentally in him, likely for the better. He'd seem to have come to terms with something between the two of them, and it made him gentler, kinder, almost to an unsettling degree. She'd thought initially that it was an overcompensation in response to her fear of him, but she swiftly realized that it was different. He had always expressed a deeper desire for her, through control, power, or ownership, but recently that had disappeared. There was no struggle between them now, or at least nothing that Law contributed to. Any tension left was residual trauma, and Law assiduously whittled at it with the determination of one grinding a log into sawdust.

Only Law had an idea of what had happened during her imprisonment, likely because he had undergone similar treatment, and as a result, only he truly understood. Spade didn't know how to express her appreciation for him.

One night, the Hearts were trying to have a bonfire outside in the eastern gardens, which was a terrible idea because Wano was a rainy country and dry wood was difficult to find. The Hearts gathered a large pile of damp logs and bark and Spade, after Bepo's irresistible beseeching, dried them with small puffs of wind. After over an hour of failed sparks and inhaling too much smoke, the Hearts celebrated around a teeny campfire, which Bepo promptly extinguished with an ill-placed sneeze.

Spade leaned against Law, the two of them wrapped in a blanket as they watched Shachi and Penguin chase Bepo around the poor remnants of their hard work. She laughed at the sight, and Law gave one of his half-smiles.

"Enjoying yourself?" he said.

"Not hard to, with your crew," she murmured.

He made a noise of assent. His hold around her waist tightened and he rested his chin on her head. She heard him take in a deep breath and exhale very slowly.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"No. It's just…we're going to leave in a few days."

Spade felt Law had just picked her up and thrown her into the open ocean. "What? Why? Where?"

"Marco wants to sail off to Impel Down soon, and that's not a battle I have a stake in. I want to take advantage of him clashing with Kaidou. There's an open Yonkou position, possibly two if Marco wins, which means many New World territories will fall into chaos. I want to take advantage of the mess."

Of course. While Spade had enjoyed the stagnancy, Law had never been content sitting still. He had attended all meetings faithfully, and while Spade retired early every night, Law had reassumed his terrible sleeping patterns, spending hours mapping out what he knew of the New World and digging into the deepest Wano archives for additional information. She should have seen this coming, but it did not blunt the shock.

"Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this?"

"You've been avoiding the meetings," he replied, "and you never wanted updates."

"This is a different kind of update!"

"It doesn't have to be. I didn't bring it up because I didn't think it'd matter."

"Of course it matters!" she said angrily. "You were just going to disappear on me?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Law sighed. "I didn't think it'd matter because I want you to come with me."

Several meters away, Bepo let out a playful howl as Shachi and Penguin finally caught him and tackled him to the ground. In the furthest corner of the garden, Jean Bart had started his own fire, while other Hearts egged on the brawl. Amidst all the joyous chaos, Spade only heard Law's statement echo through her head. He returned her expression with a blank one of his own, but she was against his chest and could feel his heartbeat thump quickly.

"Why are you so surprised?" he asked, tone dry. "You never considered this?"

"I…I guess not," she admitted. "I don't know why, though. It…seems like a rather obvious option."

"Yes," he said simply, "I thought so too.

She just stared at him, dumbfounded and feeling rather stupid. She knew this was a huge deal, that she should be feeling many emotions, but all that registered was a wet blanket of numbness as her mind feebly attempted to process exactly what Law had suggested. Spade could tell that he was growing increasingly unimpressed with her lack of response, and in a slight panic, she brought a hand up to his cheek and kissed him. Some crewmembers whooped off in the distance, but she ignored them and deepened the kiss, tasting Law and cigarette smoke. Law broke off the kiss, clearly seeing through her distraction, and he resumed his gaze with unfettered intensity.

"So?" he said. "Is that a yes?"

"I…I need to think about it."

"What is there to think about?" he said a tad impatiently. "It makes sense, doesn't it?"

"In some ways, yes, but—"

"You've never wanted to be a Whitebeard. I highly doubt you'd be more comfortable around the Strawhats than around us. We have similar goals and similar styles—I respect your skills and won't hold you back. I understand the Underworld likely better than any other captain, so if you want to recover Hurricane, I could help you recover it faster than anyone else. My crew likes you and vice versa. We don't have a navigational scout, and that's your area of expertise. We both have grudges against the World Government, and believe me that I care very little if the Marines as an institution survive this era. So it makes sense. Not to mention that I love you."

It was clear that Law had prepared this argument well in advance. Throughout it, his tone never inflected. He stated his last sentence just as dispassionately as the rest of his argument, a single bullet point in the "pros" column of "Why You Should Join the Hearts Pirates, presented to you by Trafalgar Law." His breath never hitched, his voice did not waver or soften. It was clear, confident, and it was because Law did not make a big deal out of this declaration that Spade believed him. Just like everything else he had stated, it was a fact.

"I…" Her voice came out wobbly, and she cleared her throat so she could start over, stronger. "Thank you. For offering. And for saying that."

Law remained expressionless, but his heart seemed to be beating very rapidly and Spade wanted desperately for it to slow down before it exploded.

"I'm not saying no," she said seriously. "I just need more time, all right? I need to talk to some people."

"Like who?" he said evenly.

"Marco. And more importantly, your crewmates."

"I've already asked them and they are more than happy—"

"Law," she said gently. "I think my questions will be a little different than yours."

He was clearly displeased with her response and finally averted his gaze elsewhere. Penguin had wrestled Bepo to the ground ("That's 117 to 116, bear, now _you're_ the subordinate!") and Shachi had started roasting some kabobs over Jean Bart's fire, which was now dancing and alive. The scent of meat would surely lure Luffy over to the Hearts' quarters, which meant this privacy between them would disappear soon. Spade opened her mouth, but then Law spoke, so quietly that Spade could barely hear him.

"I thought we would heal best when we were together. Thought we'd be better…around each other."

Spade's throat felt dry. This remark, barely audible over the crackles of firewood and the laughter of Law's family, meant more than anything else Law had said up to this point. It was an invitation to be a partner, a recognition that their biggest flaw was that they were both a little fucked up and was it a good idea to be around each other because of it—but Law didn't see it that way, he thought they could bring out the best of each other because they understood each other, and not just the little quirks or their best qualities—no, they truly understood each other, trauma and hopes and dreams and fears, dark instincts and moral compasses and impulse. This was what Law had meant. Stripped raw of any other defenses, this was what made the most sense.

"Hey." Her whisper came out cracked. "I love you too."

Law nodded, his lips set in a grim line, and he held her tighter like he was afraid she would disappear into empty air. Despite that Spade had done that very thing so many times before, she stayed in place this time, because there was nowhere to run, and even if there were, she did not want to.


	26. Resuscitation

**Chapter 26: Resuscitation**

The days trotted on with the diligence of a determined tank engine, which in some other world, surely would have been named something bland like Thomas or the like. Wano's sunny season expired and clouds billowed in, the rain reclaiming its rightful throne just like its rulers. Momonosuke was receiving training according to his status, and, with the exception of the Strawhats, the pirates that had saved Wano made very sure that the country's new young ruler remembered who his saviors were. They did not do so in any kind of overt, forceful way, but both Law and Marco had the foresight to wind in a small tax into the country's new constitution. The protection of the realm came at a fairly reasonable cost.

Law meticulously reviewed Wano's constitution multiple times, making edits here and there, ensuring the language was tight and there was no room for misinterpretation. He said he was protecting his assets. Spade knew he was biding his time as he waited for her decision. The Hearts were supposed to have left already, but for some reason, Law always had an excuse to stay.

Spade knew Law thought the decision was supposed to be an easy one, especially after he'd laid out the facts so neatly for her. In truth, she thought so, too, though her reasons were more inexplicable. She felt comfortable with Law, was more alive and less apathetic when they were together. She knew she wanted to be with him, that she loved him. This knowledge gave her a kind of clarity she hadn't possessed in a long time, so it befuddled her just as much as it befuddled him as to exactly why she could not bring herself to agree.

Something inside her, curled tenderly in fetal position, sat on her heart, light enough to ignore, but whenever she thought about leaving with the Hearts, it tugged at her with an insistency she couldn't dismiss. Spade could not place her finger on what it was exactly, but it gave her enough hesitancy that she knew she needed to identify its source. She just didn't know how.

Robin, always the wiser one, tried to help. She laid out pros and cons, eventually stating that she supported any decision that meant that Spade would have a crew she could call her family.

"You like the Hearts," she said plainly. "Why not?"

"I liked the Strawhats when I joined," Spade pointed out. "It didn't mean I felt like one. Even Zoro can tell you that."

Robin nodded. "But it's different with the Hearts, isn't it? You feel…more like you. You don't have to hold secrets from them anymore."

Spade agreed—the Hearts were jovial and kind, but their captain was the Surgeon of Death who was skilled in all sorts of ways to inflict pain and his crewmates didn't seem to have a problem with that. Spade liked that.

"Is it Marco?" Robin asked, reaching the obvious problem.

Of course it was Marco. Spade loved Marco, more than life and dreams because Marco could actually accomplish her dreams. Marco had dragged her out of hell more than once, and he remembered who she was, who she strived to be, especially because Marco understood perfectly how she and Ace had worked. Ace remained an integral piece of her past that Law could never fathom. Leaving Marco behind felt like she was leaving Ace too, and Spade could not bring herself to do that.

When it came to advice on the matter, the Phoenix himself was not terribly useful. Spade found him shortly after Law had made his offer, because for transparency's sake, she needed to let Marco know. He wasn't as surprised as she thought he'd be.

"I know," he said simply. "Law told me."

"He did? When?"

"While back. Barged in here like he was declarin' war. Jozu was pissed."

Spade smiled faintly. "Hard to imagine that."

Marco gave her a strange sort of look, almost wounded. "Jozu doesn't wanna see you go."

"Yeah. But it's not like I came by the base all that often anyway," Spade said, sitting down on the couch in the center of Marco's sleeping quarters. "How much would really change?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

Marco didn't sound cold or bitter, but he was definitely reserved. Spade didn't like his restraint; it wasn't supposed to exist, not between them. But a lot of things between them weren't supposed to exist, yet they did; Spade loved Marco and vice versa, but the aftermath of the Battle at Punk Hazard had severed a bond between them that they were finding difficult to repair.

"What do you think?" Spade asked him. "What do you want me to do?"

Marco shook his head. "You can't ask me that."

It made her bristle. "Why not? You're my friend, I'm supposed to be able to ask you for advice."

"It's your decision. I want you to decide what makes you happy. You can't ask me what I want you to do—not if it isn't the same thing as what you wanna do."

Nestled underneath was a message that cut deeply too: why ask him for advice now, when she hadn't before she'd let Aokiji take her prisoner? Spade didn't have a good answer to that, and she could tell that this discussion upset Marco even though he was trying to remain neutral. She stopped bringing it up with him.

The decision, or rather, the indecision interfered with her Haki meditation enough that Aokiji noticed. He stopped one of their training sessions early on to inquire, but Spade was not ready to rely on her mentor despite his eagerness.

"Just let me focus, Kuzan."

"It's fucking up your focus," Aokiji said, bouncing a beautiful ice sphere in his hand. The sphere's walls were paper-thin and the inside hollow; a perfect sheer balloon, it refracted light in a brilliant visual masterpiece. Aokiji's control over his Haki and Devil's Fruit was annoyingly admirable.

"Something with Law?" Kuzan guessed.

Spade remained silent, concentrating on her breathing as her Haki spread through her limbs. She tried to distribute it evenly—the newfound Haki she'd utilized in Blackbeard's base against Doflamingo unveiled a latent power that she had never noticed before, but she found it slipping away whenever she tried to harness it consciously. It was as if the extra contents had been sealed beneath layers of locked steel doors. She could not access it freely, and it was taking her some time to unlock each layer at will.

"He asked you to join his crew," he said with irritating finality.

Spade's eyes snapped open and she glared at him.

"Don't play coy when you already know what's going on."

"It was a hunch," he said lazily. "That, and it's really not hard to get information out of the Hearts, y'know. They're a talkative bunch."

 _Subtlety is not their strong suit_ , Law's amused words came to mind. It made Spade smile a bit.

"You going to join?" Aokiji said.

"I don't know."

"You shouldn't."

The simplicity of Aokiji's sentence stirred that _something_ sitting in Spade's chest. It evoked an emotion that could only be described as relief, but that didn't make any sense, because why would she be relieved to hear an answer that went against what made sense?

"Power dynamic," Aokiji said, answering her unasked question. "He'll be your captain. It'll be weird."

"That's it?" she said scathingly. "'It'll be weird' is your only qualm?"

"Weird encompasses a lot," Aokiji said defensively. "You guys are too close in strength, that's one. Two, you're sleeping with each other—weird. Three, what are you really going to do for that crew? They stay underwater in a bright yellow submarine. You hate subs, you hate ostentatiousness, and quite honestly, you hate taking orders. The arrangement, all in all, will be weird."

"So what do you think I should do?"

"The same thing you've always done," he answered. "You're a free agent, Skye. You thrive in stealth, and you love recon and Intel. Build back what you've lost. Be Queen of the Underworld, and take orders from no one."

Spade spent a long time in silence, pondering Aokiji's words.

"Not even from you?" she said finally.

Aokiji tossed the crystal sphere at her, and she caught it in a gentle wind, levitating it in front of her with practiced precision. Through the ice, Aokiij's expression was distorted, so she could not be certain if he looked regretful or if she was simply projecting.

"Especially from me," he said quietly.

The anger, resentment, loathing or whatever it was toward Aokiji eased with that one, contrite statement. She was not supposed to blame him, but she did, and it helped to know that Aokiji felt the same way. The countless hours he'd spent on the way back to Wano nursing her were not lost on her. She'd dismissed it as caring for an investment; Aokiji saw it as caring for a child he'd come close to abandoning.

"So be like you, then," she said.

"I didn't say that."

"But that's what you are, right? A lone, free agent? You were bad at taking orders too, though ironically you got to the top of the Marines. You fight for your own ambitions and answer to no one."

Kuzan's lips quirked. "You make me sound so rebellious and intentional. I'm just lazy."

"Don't you get lonely?"

She always did sound more childish whenever she was around her old mentor. If talking about personal matters bothered Aokiji, he didn't let it show. His careless façade held in place, and he grinned.

"How could I be lonely, when there's so much of the world to see?"

That made sense for Aokiji. He was a man with few personal connections and little desire for it. He was loved by many, and kind at his core, but he did not go about surrounding himself in people to love and care for. It was a good life for him. It allowed him to exist freely, unencumbered by others' expectations, and he could act as he saw fit, guided by his own moral Log Pose.

Ten years ago, Spade would've loved to hear that Aokiji thought she could follow in his footsteps. Now, though, the prospect of being isolated forever was one she knew she didn't want. Perhaps she had, right after Ace had died and the world had seemed so bleak and empty without his fire to fill it. That solitude had ruined her; expecting nothing of others had driven her to a destructive point masked as sacrifice. She did not want to ever cross that threshold again.

Which was why this decision was so puzzling. She knew she wanted a crew, she knew she loved Law. To join the Hearts was therefore an easy and convenient choice.

It was when she spoke to Bepo that she finally arrived at the answer she'd been searching for.

She found Bepo one day after supper. The polar bear was on sentry duty that night, and Law and Penguin were getting a cartography lesson from the ancient Wano mapmaker who was largely responsible for maintaining Wano's seclusion from the rest of the world for so long. (This opportunity excited the Hearts first-mate a bit too much. "The trick is manipulating the borders in a way that coincides with the magnetic fields and ocean tides, but is just _slightly_ off," Penguin had explained with glittering eyes. "It's amazing what they've done—just one teensy adjustment and anyone searching for the country bypasses it completely because their calculations are less than fifteen degrees off, and they'll land in Sorana, the next island down, thinking it's part of Wano! Plus the Soranians are crazy strong cannibals so no one really lives to tell the tale that all circulating maps of Wano are wrong!")

Mapmaking was very fascinating, especially for a scout like Spade, but no one could get a hard-on for maps like Penguin could, not even his nerdy as fuck captain. Law had to drag Penguin away with an apologetic, "Move along, dumbass."

Freed from the unsolicited lecture, Spade joined Bepo in the highest tower of the Wano palace, bringing with her Bepo's favorite snack of dried fish and chips. She declined Bepo's excited offer to share, assuring him that she'd brought them solely for him, and drank instead from a flask of fine Wano sake that Zoro had recommended. Zoro had taken great liking to the country—in a land of swordsmen and sake, the Strawhat first mate was among his peers.

"So have you decided yet?" Bepo asked her eagerly as he peered through the telescope out into the darkening sky. Dusk fell prettily in Wano, a blend of all cool-colors, crimson and indigo melting into blue-black. A smattering of stars peered through the thin clouds, twinkling with some effort.

"Not yet," Spade admitted. "I wanted to talk to you about it."

"Are you worried about us?" the bear said.

"Sort of."

"Captain would've never offered if we weren't okay with it."

"Being 'okay' with it is different from wanting me to join, Bepo."

"I want you to join!"

Spade gave a wan smile. "Thanks. But I've been part of a group where only a generous half wanted me there. It's not ideal."

"Sure," Bepo nodded in understanding. "I won't lie, there were some concerns."

Spade's stomach dropped. "Yeah, of course. You guys just lost Ikkaku and Uni—of course it'd be weird if I just joined suddenly."

"Yeah, well, that's just part of it." Bepo scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I guess some guys are worried about you following the rules too."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you already broke one." Bepo held up his paw, trying to make the number one, but his stubby digits didn't flex the way humans' did, so it just looked like he was swearing an oath instead. "Captain doesn't sleep with his crewmates."

Spade rolled her eyes. "That can't seriously be a real concern."

Bepo looked hurt at her accusation. "Why shouldn't it be?"

"Because we're two consenting adults, Bepo, and I'm sure half your ship has probably screwed the other half at some point except for you, actually, maybe even including you, God knows what happens in that sub."

"Those are different circumstances, and excuse you, many people find me irresistible, thank you very much," the bear said primly, ignoring all suggestions of zoophilia aboard the ship. "We're not talking about the same thing. It's not as big a deal if crewmates sleep with each other, we're all on the same level, though Captain still isn't super pleased whenever that happens because it leads to drama. But Captain has been adamant about that rule against sleeping with his crewmates since he founded this crew! It messes up the—"

"Power dynamic," Spade finished for him.

"Yeah."

She understood where Bepo was coming from. Law had established the rule because he was worried about consent, but his and Spade's situation was different. Consent was not the concern because their arrangement had begun outside the confinements of whatever rules Law enforced on his ship and his men; no, the issue was that if Law made an exception to this age-old decree with her now, who was to say what rules he'd break—or allow her to break—in the future? It rattled the order Law had so punctiliously crafted and established thus far, and if that order collapsed in on itself, what was left? Love was not enough to rectify such chaos.

"I think it'll be okay," Bepo said. "We trust Captain's judgment, and honestly he's a lot happier when you're around. Him being happy means a lot more than a lot of the other small details. We want that for him."

"Me too." She did not sound as confident as she wished she did. "I want that for him too."

"So you'll join!"

"I don't know."

Bepo frowned. "Is there something else bothering you? Are you worried about anyone onboard? Because I can talk to my lackeys, y'know, they'll listen to me—"

"No, it's not a problem with anyone," she interrupted. "It's me. It's just me."

Bepo didn't push her to continue, just peered at her with those big, shining, innocent bear eyes, his nose and whiskers twitching ever so slightly as he waited in apprehension for her to continue. Stressed, Spade fumbled in her pocket for a cigarette. Bepo placed his paw over hers and pushed it away from her pocket.

"No smoking," he said. "Makes my nose burn."

"Right," she said irritably.

There was no cigarette to hide behind, no familiar scent of smoke and tobacco to calm her down. Her pathetic little substitute for Ace's presence wasn't available; it was just her, vulnerable and edgy, just Spade being honest with a polar bear.

"Bepo, why did you decide to follow Law?" she asked finally.

He looked confused. "You've already asked me this before."

"Right," she said, annoyed with herself. She knew that. She was deflecting from asking the question that she knew would give her an answer that would lead to _the_ answer, which meant Spade already knew _the_ answer, but she still needed to hear Bepo's answer out loud.

"What is Law to you?"

"My captain," was the instant answer. "My best friend."

"Right. And to the rest of the world?"

Bepo found the question peculiar, but he still answered with a swiftness that did not strike her as rehearsed, but instead originated from unadulterated honesty. "He's the man who'll become the Pirate King."

Spade held her gaze steadily. Bepo poke with pure conviction, belief in a man he loved, followed, and would die for because he knew Law would do the same. This was a truth to all Heart Pirates. It guided them, a light in the darkness, a faith that allowed them to function as units in a massive machine that churned toward one goal: Trafalgar Law finding the One Piece and becoming the Pirate King.

Spade patted Bepo gently on the back, her fingers running through his fur. It was gritty and knotted in places, and she pulled out a twig buried deep near his shoulder blades.

"Thanks, Bepo. I think I have my answer."

* * *

It was well past midnight by the time Law returned to his sleeping quarters, covered in the scent of parchment and ink and ancient scrolls and _knowledge_. He loved being in a library, especially among old records. The cartography lesson had proved to be utterly fascinating, though not quite for the same reasons that Penguin had found it to be. Law had grown quickly bored of the actual mapmaking process and had taken advantage of Penguin's avid questions preoccupying Ryuusuke, the old Wano cartographer, to delve deeper into the record room. The room went far deeper than Law had imagined, and Law followed the dates as they traveled further and further back in time, decade after decade. He caught sight of the date of Flevance's obligeration early on, then strolled past his own birth year, then that of his parents, then the founding date of Flevance. The room stretched for what felt like miles, long enough until Penguin and Ryuusuke's animated chatter disappeared into silence.

After nearly half an hour of walking, Law arrived at the dead-end of the archives, a semi-circle stacked with scrolls and pages that towered high into the air. The path he'd taken had subtly but surely wound itself deep into the ground, and upon seeing just how high the ceiling was at this final destination, Law assumed he was several meters below ground. Law took his time tracing the dates back, curious to see where they'd stop. History was an unreliable thing, written and rewritten depending on the victors. Law had been to his fair share of libraries over this life and had never found a record dating prior to eight hundred years ago, when the World Government had been birthed. He tried not to get his hopes up too high, but Wano's status as a separatist country, uncontrolled by the World Government, gave Law an inkling that perhaps results would be different here. He walked slowly, carefully studying each number and title, until he came across a date that made his heart stutter out of time.

It was a year marked within the Void Century.

Law willed himself to breathe. The Void Century was an entire century blotted off the face of history—no records of it were supposed to exist. Wano's records in the appropriate time range numbered few, but they _fucking existed,_ and that was magic in and of itself.

With delicate handling of the old files, he withdrew the scrolls, all sealed with old, unintelligible markings; the paper was so withered and frail that Law used his Room to extract them from their placements. When he unfurled the scrolls, he found that they were covered in similar illegible markings, unreadable to him, but recognizable as the same text as on the Poneglyphs.

 _Unbelievable_. The only person alive in the world who could read this was Nico Robin, but Law doubted she had wandered this far into the Wano archives. Careful to keep an ear out for Penguin and his new sensei, Law spent the next several hours identifying each scroll with similar text and memorizing the symbols each contained. It was somewhat difficult, given that they were written in a language Law did not understand and there were over twenty scrolls in total, but once Law had established a pattern in the writing, he memorized them rather quickly.

After ensuring he had identified each relevant scroll, he returned to Penguin and Ryuusuke's still ongoing lesson. Blood pounded in his ears—he knew the magnitude of what he'd just found. He willed himself calm and listened for an additional fifteen minutes to the lecture before interjecting with a final question. The two cartographers were so invested in their craft that they hadn't even noticed Law's disappearance, and his question was so advanced and pertinent that they assumed he'd been quietly listening for the last several hours. Law thanked Ryuusuke politely before bidding both of them goodnight, leaving them to their own devices.

His mind was buzzing. The tips of his fingers tingled. He loved this feeling, the excitement brimming in his chest, the sensation of adventure alive in his blood. They needed to leave Wano. The discovery of the Poneglyphic scrolls that documented some events within the Lost Fucking Century was revolutionary; besides the large Poneglyph stones themselves, all traces of this ancient language had been presumably destroyed in Ohara. The language of the scrolls in the Wano archives were slightly different, perhaps an uncharacteristic angle or curve peeking through each letter compared to those found on the Poneglyphs, but the base roots were certainly the same. The Wano archivists likely didn't even know what a goldmine they had in their vaults, with so much preoccupation on the indestructible Poneglyphs themselves. It would take time and dedication, but languages were all about pattern recognition, and surely some translations of Poneglyphic texts were circulating in the black market. With the right materials, Law could learn how to the read the Poneglyphs that spelled out the road to Raftel, the True History, or whatever weapons the Poneglyphs contained. He might even be able to identify what exactly had happened in the Void Century that the World Government was so keen to obliterate. This was fucking knowledge, which was _fucking power_ —whatever was found in that Void Century could upheave the entire world.

He opened the door to his quarters. Spade was sleeping in the futon and didn't stir at the sound, supposedly in deep sleep despite that the desk lamp was still on. He strode quickly to his desk and pulled out pen and paper, ready to transcribe what he'd memorized, but abruptly, Law paused. His brain raced electrically, his synapses firing at rates and numbers unbeknownst to other men. But his forefront thought was a curious one: what if Spade woke up while he worked?

Law frowned. Why was he hesitating? He wanted Spade as a crewmate—that meant he could trust her. He wouldn't have second-guessed Bepo or Penguin; why should it be the same now?

He picked up the pen and dipped it in ink, but couldn't bring himself to write. The Poneglyphic scrolls flashed through his head, one by one, sequentially. He remembered each flawlessly.

The ink dripped from the head of the pen onto the paper. The black liquid formed a perfect sphere that flattened on impact, trembling as the cohesive forces pulled it back into a smooth ellipse.

"Law?"

Law set down the pen and turned around. Spade had woken up and half-sat up, propped by her elbows.

"Hey." He walked away from the desk toward her. "Sorry to wake you."

"Don't worry about it."

He knelt down beside her and kissed her gently. She brought a hand up to his cheek and leaned into him just briefly before lying back down on her elbows.

"You reek of archives," she said, nose wrinkling.

Law chuckled and stripped off his clothes, casting them to the side messily. He climbed into bed with her, and Spade rested her head against his left arm.

"Not many people would recognize the smell," he remarked.

"Not many people have spent as much time as I have with old books and records," she answered. "I can smell a nerd from miles away."

"Rude, but I cannot deny the claim."

Spade smiled. "Find anything interesting? You were gone a long time."

Law opened his mouth to tell the truth, but it refused to come out. "Just some very ancient maps. They have maps from before the World Government was established—can you believe that?"

His information and interest were faked, but it was believable. Spade laughed softly.

"Nerd," she said again.

Her eyes slid shut and she drew close to him. Law wrapped his arms around her and waited patiently for her breathing to resume its slow, deep nature, as he recounted the Poneglyphic characters in his mind's eye.

It took a long time for Law to fall asleep. He was too wired, too excited about his discovery, but nothing kept him more uncomfortably awake than the knowledge that despite everything that had happened, he was still shit at honesty.

* * *

She wasn't absolutely certain, but she thought something changed in Law since that night he returned from his cartography lesson. While previously, he'd seemed rather content to loiter in Wano as she thought about her decision, he now seemed keen to leave. His recovery period seemed to be much shorter than hers—or perhaps Law had experienced so many traumas over the course of his life that it was a natural progression for him to resume normal function as soon as possible. Whatever he'd found in the archives had ignited a desire to set sail once more, which meant that Spade could not delay her decision any longer, even though Law said nothing to pressure her.

She was admittedly curious as to what exactly had sparked this change. If Law didn't share this information with her, then that meant he either didn't trust her with it or didn't think it important enough to share. Spade doubted that she could get a straight answer from Law himself, so she asked Penguin instead. This turned out to be a mistake, because Penguin, misinterpreting her interest in Law for an unfounded interest in mapmaking, launched into another hour-long lecture that Spade endured by politely nodding along with. So much for that.

She did not dwell on the exact meaning of why Law did not divulge his secrets with her. He didn't owe it to her, love or not, and though it stung slightly, she understood why. She hadn't sworn loyalty to him, not yet anyway, and Law was a cautious man who knew better than to let affection cloud his judgment. Spade let it go, or at least tried to. The irritating workaholic in her had already come up with a thousand different theories, each of which required her to make a trip to the Wano archives whenever she had a private moment.

For now, though, it wasn't the priority. With Law's renewed purpose for adventure, Spade could not be the one holding him behind.

It was late at night when she finally told him. They were alone on the rooftop, stargazing, Law's right arm wrapped around her waist while the other held a glowing cigarette. They were trading navigation tricks, which stars to look for when New World weather got in the way, how to avoid being tricked by rapidly shape-shifting clouds in the middle of a thunderstorm. Spade's Devil Fruit ability had lended her natural instinct for navigation, but it surprised her just how in depth Law's knowledge was, especially for someone who was a doctor by trade.

"I've been sailing alone since I was ten," he said. The scruff of his goatee scratched her cheek. "You pick up a lot along the way."

"You're not a modest person, Law. Don't start pretending now."

He scoffed. "You're right. Not everyone could do it. I'm a fucking genius, you're welcome."

She raised her eyebrows. "You're welcome?"

"For blessing you with my presence," he smirked. "For sleeping with you."

She let out a snort and pulled out of his hold. "All right, hot shot, let's not get carried away."

"Kidding," he said, tugging her back. "Just a joke."

He ran a hand through her hair, threading the short strands through his fingertips. It was comforting in a way that made Spade ache. She had not felt so at peace with someone in a long time.

"Thank you," she murmured against his neck. She inhaled the scent of tobacco and realized that the comfort it provided had changed in its origin slightly.

"For sleeping with you?"

"That really wasn't a joke, was it?"

"Half," he said slyly. "I _am_ the first person to get your kinks, aren't I? And wouldn't you say that I have delivered more than adequately on them?"

"Ha ha," she said sardonically. "Fuck off."

"Don't be so bashful."

"I'm not being bashful, you're just being a dick."

"Fine." He rolled his eyes, and Spade couldn't help but do the same. That childish streak of Law's came out once in a while in small bursts. It was as if the child Law, who had never gotten the chance to be a child, eagerly found ways to slip into Law's mannerisms whenever he could. She wondered if Law acted this way around Bepo, or Penguin, or did Law always have to uphold his captaincy around them? She doubted it. Bepo had said Law was hilarious, after all.

"What were you thanking me for?" Law asked.

"For…I don't know. Everything since we got to Wano. I've felt happy with you in a way I'd forgotten." Like walking on air. Like feeling full. Like being free. "And I think it's helped with…everything that happened."

Law's grip on her waist tightened ever so slightly.

"The flashbacks still happen," her voice had dropped significantly, "but they're better now. I am not so frightened of you, and it improved faster than I thought it would because you've been so patient. So thank you for that."

"There's nothing to thank me for," he murmured. "If anything…you proved Doflamingo wrong. So I have you to thank for that."

"That you're still worthy of love, you mean?" she said, sitting up slightly so she could look into his face. "Or that it's okay if you do?"

All traces of Law's childish joviality had disappeared by now. His adult impassivity had resumed its natural habitat in his expression, but behind the bored exterior radiated an intense desire to abandon and bury this conversation forever. Spade did not look away from him. She rested her hand over Law's bare chest, feeling his heart beat under his breastbone with reassuring steadiness. When it seemed like Law would never answer, he finally said,

"Both."

She readjusted her position so that she was fully on top of him, straddling him. The simple action made Law's lips curl; his pupils had already dilated slightly, and when Spade shifted so their hips were aligned, she did not miss his burgeoning arousal.

"Both," she said quietly. "Both are true, you know. You didn't need me to prove Doflamingo wrong for you. Your crew proves that, day in, day out. That was a lesson you should've learned far before you ever met me."

"I know," he said simply.

"Which is why I don't want anything I say after this to undermine that, all right? You are worthy of your crew, and it is okay—good, even—for you to love in return. But…" She took in a deep breath, "I can't join your crew."

Law's eyes widened, flint flashing, a spark of anger. He held her hips in his palms, and their hold tightened, but he did not move otherwise.

"Don't say anything for a bit," she said. "Just listen, all right? I've given this a lot of thought."

Law nodded stiffly, visibly holding his tongue.

"I love you." Spade brushed his cheek. "I love you in a way that I'd almost forgotten how. When Ace died…I thought that was it. I loved Ace like mad but everything since I left him and since his death made me forget that loving someone wasn't supposed to hurt so goddamn much. I thought I was supposed to feel like everything inside me was tearing apart each time I thought about him. That love meant never forgetting that pain because that meant I'd forget the hurt and that was all I had left of him, so forgetting that meant that I was going to forget him. I didn't want that. I still don't want that."

"But you." Her lips, mouth, throat all felt dry. She brushed her tongue against her lips. "Even back at the Whitebeard base, before…"

"I lied to you," Law said hoarsely.

"Yeah, that. Before I fucked you over too. Being around you didn't hurt and I didn't realize how much I wanted it. I still want it, I want you."

"Then why—"

"Because it's not the same, Law. I love you, but it's not the same way Bepo or Penguin love you, or the way Ikkaku and Uni did. It's not the love you swear fealty to. They died for you in a fucking heartbeat because you are their captain. To them, you are the man who will make their dreams come true because their dream is to see you become Pirate King. And you'd die for them because they believe in you, and so they're yours to love and protect." Spade leaned close to him, and their foreheads touched. "Don't you get it? I started a fucking war for you, Law. I would fight through hell and back for you. But I'm not yours to love and protect. I wouldn't die for you. And I don't think you'd die for me. I think we've both known that from the beginning."

She kissed him, but he didn't kiss her back. She pressed in a bit more insistently, tongue running against his lips but Law wouldn't open his mouth. Defeated and wounded, Spade broke apart from him.

"Law—"

"You don't think I'll be the Pirate King in the end, is that it?" he said, all cutting and sharp edges now. His eyes blazed like heated metal. "I was the youngest Shichibukai in history, Spade. I toppled a kingdom, and I killed Blackbeard. This role has been my destiny from birth, and if somehow I don't inspire enough confidence in you—"

"That's not the point," she snapped, disbelieving that her meaning could be badly misconstrued. "You, Luffy, Kid—I've told you before, I don't care who becomes Pirate King! I don't care about the One Piece. It's a treasure for dreamers, and I don't have any more dreams, Law. Do you want a crewmate who doesn't even give a fuck, who actually _doesn't care_ about your biggest goal?"

"Then what do you want?" said Law coolly. "You've hardly shown any kind of initiative since Blackbeard died—I thought being part of a crew with similar sentiments as yours could only benefit you."

"That's called an alliance, Law, not loyalty! If I'm going to swear allegiance to someone, I need to believe in them fully, their goals, morals, mission. I need to be so blindly faithful to them that I can follow their orders without questioning them at all in a time of crisis."

Understanding dawned on Law, and it only added fuel to the flame. His lips curled into a snarl. "And you can't do that with me. Even though I've sworn over and over again that I would never hurt you."

"It's not the same thing."

"Fucking…" Law sat up, gaze heated. "It just keeps fucking happening with you. Every time I think I've proved myself to you, you say it's not enough."

"That's not what I'm—"

"But it is," he cut in, voice brittle. "Because that's what you're worried about. If you can never trust me in a crisis, that means you can never fully give yourself to me. You are worried about our power dynamic, because you will always believe that I would abuse it." Law's eyes flashed in fury, loathing, and deep beneath, injury. "You will always believe that I can hurt you, no matter what I do."

Spade didn't have the words to reply. That wasn't what she had meant at all—she'd been thinking about loyalty, fealty, dying for a cause that wasn't hers. But Law made sense. It was just like him, to jump to the conclusion that she was attacking his deepest wounds, and though that wasn't Spade's intention, hadn't her words meant exactly that?

"Law," she whispered, reaching for him.

"Don't." He pulled his arm out of her hold. "You've made your decision. It's all I needed. We're leaving tomorrow."

Blue light flashed and Law disappeared, leaving Spade alone under the stars, none of which could guide her where she was supposed to go.

* * *

"All internal systems are a go!" Shachi proceeded to run the external systems checklist with the crew and Penguin put the finalizing touches on the Polar Tang's exterior. Momonosuke had provided them with a generous amount of Kairouseki to repair the submarine's coverings, and the crew had done an excellent job polishing their vessel back to perfection. The yellow sub bobbed happily at the dock, its Jolly Roger looking, well, quite jolly in anticipation for its newest quest.

Law grit a cigarette between his teeth as he helped Jean Bart screw on a final piece of railing into place. Down at the docks, most of the Strawhat crew was chatting animatedly with some choice Whitebeards and Wano samurai who had come to bade the Hearts farewell. None of them offered a helping hand, possibly because they knew Law didn't trust a single one of them with any part of his ship, and more likely because they were lazy and enjoyed seeing the normally stoic Hearts Captain engage in manual labor. Law truthfully didn't mind this kind of work; it involved a certain mindless focus that occupied his thoughts similar to meditation, especially when there were things he was avidly avoiding.

"Think that's everything," Law said, straightening out as Jean Bart tested the railing's strength.

"Mm. Thanks, Captain."

Law grunted in response.

"We can head out then."

"Our supply room full?"

"Yes, the Wano people have been most generous."

They had indeed. The first thing Law would do when he had time and privacy in his own library was to sketch out all of the scrolls he'd found in the Wano archives.

"Let's say our goodbyes and disembark," Law said, tone clipped. "No need to delay our stay any longer."

If Jean Bart caught the irritation in Law's voice, he let it go. He merely nodded and rounded up the rest of the crew, doing a head-count in the process, while Law Roomed himself back to shore to complete his social niceties. Luffy was thoroughly displeased to see him go ("Trafal-guy, we didn't even get to beat up Kaidou together!") and as unbelievable as he found him, Law was going to miss the Strawhat Captain too. He avoided Luffy's rubbery hung only partially, finally yielding when the rubber arms extended much farther than they should've been able to when chasing him. His goodbye to the rest of the Strawhats was goodnatured and easy. Only his exchange with Robin was a bit awkward, likely because Robin had the uncanny knack of knowing everything.

"I'm disappointed too," she said cryptically when they hugged.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said airily. "Just thought it would've been good for both of you."

Law chose to ignore this statement and moved on to the next person, despite his inner acidity raging forward with, _Yeah, I fucking thought so too._

He knew he wasn't supposed to be as angry as he was, but nothing could quite rankle him the way Spade could right after he'd cut his veins open and bled his truths out to her. It was a skill apparently only she possessed.

 _Good riddance_ , Law thought. It was fine. Better for him, even. This chapter of his life was closed: Skye Spade, the Distraction, written and complete. Time to unpause the main storyline: he could resume on his journey to finding the One Piece.

The next person in line was Marco, which did not help Law's mood. He couldn't quite make up his mind about Marco. Everyone liked Marco, and honestly, Law found him a good drinking partner, but it didn't shake the feeling that by rejecting Law, Spade had chosen Marco, and that poured salt on the wound.

"Safe travels," Marco said, extending a hand.

Law took it and shook it stiffly.

"Take care of her," the Phoenix said.

"…What?"

Marco arched an eyebrow. "Spade. She's…on the ship, isn't she?"

Law let out a hollow laugh. "What, no. She rejected my offer last night."

The Phoenix was bewildered. "Really? I haven't seen her all morning—thought she was with you."

This gave Law pause. He did not let his hope rise—this didn't mean anything. He shrugged, the picture of nonchalance.

"No, she isn't. We didn't end on the best of terms last night."

 _Meaning you huffed off like a child who didn't get his dessert after dinner_.

Law ignored his internal musings and resumed his goodbyes, noting that nearly all of the Whitebeard commanders had come to say goodbye. That struck him as odd, until he realized that they must have all been under the same impression that Spade was leaving with them. Only Aokiji was notably missing, but when Law asked Marco where he was, Marco frowned.

"He left last night. Said he and Spade had talked and he was happy with her recovery. Went off to wander again."

"Wander to…"

"The fuck do I care."

Law doubted that Marco didn't have a fuck to give on the matter, but did not press it. He was quite certain Aokiji was on his way to Impel Down.

When all farewells were said and most of his crew had started boarding, Law took one final look at the brilliant verdance of Wano. It truly was a beautiful country, temperate and cool, much to his liking. Uni and Ikkaku's ashes had been scattered at sea, where they'd wanted to be laid to rest, but the crew had made small memorials for them in the Wano graveyards so their souls could have a home on land as well. Law could not have chosen a better-suited place for them. He would visit again.

But for the time being, there was nothing else holding him here. He ignored the prickly, writhing sensation in his chest that had become familiar over the time he'd known Spade. It was like an angry cat, hissing and spitting when they fought, purring contendly and basking in sunlight when they were at peace. It reared its head now, wounded that she had not shown up to say goodbye. Law could not blame her. He'd acted foolishly the night before.

Just as he resigned himself to the matter, though, Spade appeared in front of him in a warm flurry of winds so strong that it forced him to take a step back.

"Fuck, Spade," Marco cursed as he wiped sand from his eyes.

"Sorry," she said breathlessly, having clearly flown here in a rush. She looked at Law with wide eyes. "Law, can we talk for a second?"

"About what," he said curtly.

"Just…I have to give you something," she said, wary of everyone watching them. "Somewhere private, please?"

Law frowned but teleported them to the crow's nest on top of the Polar Tang, out of earshot from the dock. Spade was flummoxed with the choice.

"You count this as private?"

"We've had plenty of private conversations here. Besides, you've always been more comfortable up here than in my room. Thought you'd prefer it."

"Thanks," she said, startled with his consideration.

"What do you want?" His tone was uninviting.

"I…" She sighed. "I know you're upset with my choice, but what you said last night…that wasn't my intention. I trust you."

"All of your reasons suggested otherwise."

"Gods, you are so…" Spade made a spitting noise of frustration. She dug into her pocket and handed Law something. A white slip of paper. It tugged toward Spade's direction when Law took it.

"My Vivre card," she explained, though Law hadn't needed her to. "I had some pharmacists make it a couple days ago. Only just got finished."

"I thought you didn't want to make a Vivre card."

"I don't. Even now…" She shuddered slightly. "The thought that this shitty paper can always tell someone where I am bothers me to pieces. It's the stupidest liability for a scout or spy of any kind."

"Then why—"

"How the fuck did you ever call yourself a genius?" Spade said, annoyed. "It's for you, okay? Only you. Do whatever you want with it. Toss it, sell it, distribute it. Anyone who has this can always find me. Do you realize what kind of position that puts me in?"

Law folded the paper carefully in his hands, halves, fourths, eighths. Spade watched him as he tucked it in his pocket, a nervous energy radiating off of her .

"This is proof," he said calmly, "that you trust me not to harm you."

Spade nodded. "Yeah."

"Spade, this is a very stupid thing to do."

She laughed uneasily. "I know."

"It could get lost. I could get captured and someone could then have constant access to your location. Fuck, I could cut this into slivers and sell it in the Underworld. I know you've made many enemies who are only eager to have your location." He gazed at her levelly. "You are getting nothing in return for this. Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah." She looked resigned or resolute. Law couldn't be certain. "I'm sure."

He grabbed her by the hips and kissed her. Spade opened up to him instantly, her first breath audibly a sigh of relief, as her arms spread to embrace him and her legs parted for one of his to fit between. The tension between them snapped with the satisfaction of the first crack in a sheaf of ice, and through it flowed the river that it'd held furiously back. He kissed her like a man drowning and she was air, touched her like a sculptor fashioning his work. Law pushed up Spade's top and unbuttoned her bra with practiced ease, and Spade had removed his jacket long before and mouthed at his tattoos. Law felt her breasts under his palms, her heart beat like a thrashing caged animal under her skin. Each movement shook with an energy that they hadn't before, some unconscious knowledge that this would be the last in a long, long time. Every brush of skin felt like fire, and as Law pressed Spade against the steel pillar of the crow's nest, the contrast of the metal with her heat sent shivers down his spine.

He occupied one hand with her nipple and slid the other under her shorts and underwear. He tugged her garments down her legs and when he found the heat nestled between her thighs, the obvious wetness served as an easy invitation to press his fingers inside.

"Ah," Spade gasped, lashes fluttering rapidly, her swollen lips open seductively. "Ah, wait, shit."

She clung to him like a lifeline, and he reveled in this knowledge that he could so easily reduce her into her basest desires. He basked in this feeling, this tight, wet warmth surrounding his digits as they pumped her slowly but knowingly. Spade was flushed now, trembling as Law tugged at her right nipple and began to scissor inside of her.

"Law, we—we aren't—other people can see— _ah._ " The words came out in ragged, short gasps that culminated in a high wail of desire when Law pressed in a third finger to her warmth.

Any resistance crumbled as Spade's eyes fell completely shut and she yielded to him completely, the drug of pleasure too addicting to ponder the consequences. His hands knew her body better than anyone else, possibly even herself. Ever since that very first night, what felt like so long ago, Spade had never been hard to convince to do what he wanted in bed; Law regretted that this would be the first and possibly last time they'd ever fuck in semi-public, because the way Spade flittered between inhibition and carnal release gave her noises an edge of desperation they hadn't had before.

"Law."

"What?" He pressed his lips to her neck, felt the blood rush in her artery at an impossibly fast pace. "Want me to stop, or keep going?"

"I…"

He thrust his fingers inside her, aiming and hitting a spot that made her bury her face in his shoulder and bite it.

"Tell me to stop then."

"I…"

"What do you want, Spade?"

He wrapped one hand under her chin and made her look up at him. God, he was going to miss this. Glassy green eyes, a red flush high on her cheeks, pink-swollen lips and noises of surrender—he could turn Hurricane into a fucking mess when she let him.

She grabbed for the tented bulge of his jeans unexpectedly and Law nearly jerked away in surprise. He didn't, though, and instead held still as she unzipped his pants and freed his erection, already slick in arousal. She stroked him and Law thrust immediately against her, a conditioned response, eager and hungry.

"Fuck me, Law."

He pushed to the ground and nearly fell on top of her. The crow's nest was a tiny space and they were a pile of tangled limbs, faces buried into the crooks of their necks or shoulders, arms wrapped around each other and nails digging into skin. Law had to bend Spade at a rather severe angle for them to fit on the tiny surface of the lookout and his knees would surely be bruised by the position, but he made it work. Spade had flung Law's hat over the rails—she'd always hated the thing—and buried her hands in his hair. Her lips pressed against his temple and they moved in some words. He was too preoccupied with being inside her, feeling her tighten around him with the right kind of pressure that made this a game of endurance to see who could outlast the other. Each movement was thoughtful, each push and pull sunk deeper with intention as they both relinquished their inhibition and focused on the sensation. Spade tugged at his scalp so they could kiss, their mouths hot and heavy and tongues sliding.

Law's pace quickened and Spade's hips met his thrusts each time. Her moans matched his and their fingers interlocked as the pressure climbed, their awareness with it. Right at the apex, Law waited just for a moment, long enough to hear Spade's familiar _"Law"_ before he tumbled down that cliff, pleasure striking every nerve from his spine to his fingertips. He kept his eyes open, wanting to commemorate this to memory, and found that Spade had done the same, gaze locked, lips touched by a ghost of a smile.

He lied on top of her for a long while, in that awkward position, one hand over hers, the other at her thigh to keep her spread and flexed. He rested his forehead on hers and they kissed again, gently this time, before he slid out of her slowly.

They redressed in relative silence, an occasional "Thanks" said when one passed the other an article of clothing. When they were decent again, they just sat there, looking out at the ocean, waiting for their hearts to calm down and their heads to catch up to the reality. This was it. They were repaired, settled, that animal in Law's chest had been tamed and was now purring prettily. He felt satiated and at peace, though not entirely happy. A parting still had to happen, and who was to say when their paths would cross next. The New World was vast and the possibilities endless. Law was unsure if they'd ever see each other again before they died, especially in their line of work, when death could come in a matter of years, days, or minutes.

There was much that he wanted to say, that he probably should. Something significant, an epic farewell to remember for the ages.

"I've always wanted to fuck you on a crow's nest," said Law finally.

Spade snorted, unsurprised. "Really?"

"Since that first night we left Dressrosa."

"Ah. That's when your shameless attraction to me began?"

"I daresay it was a mutual attraction, Miss Spade."

"I can't deny that."

She reached for his hand and he gave it to her. She lifted it up to her lips and pressed them over the E of his middle finger. He brushed some stray hairs out of her face.

"So what's next for you?" he asked.

"I don't know. Still thinking about it," she replied.

"Mm. Well…let me know if you need a job."

Spade laughed. "Yeah, will do."

Spade got to her feet and dusted off her shorts. Law remained where he was, tracing the tattoos on her legs with familiarity. She let him touch her easily, and he was reminded of the first time he'd held her legs like this, so long ago.

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his swiftly, one last time.

"Goodbye, Law."

"Goodbye, Spade."

She smiled faintly, and then she disappeared. The air she left behind was cool and lingered with the faintest scent of rainwater and cigarette smoke. Law remained where he was, even as the minutes ticked by and he felt the Polar Tang pull out of the docks, out into the sunset. The raucous goodbyes shouted from the port were returned with cheers from his own crew, continuing for a long while until the figures left behind faded out of sight.

Law pulled out the Vivre card from his pocket and held it out in his palm. It was a pure, glossy white, characteristic of Vivre material that was waterproof, fireproof, destruction-proof. The card pulled back toward land comfortingly. He folded the card and tucked it carefully back. As the minutes passed, his mind wandered. He had much to do: twenty scrolls to transcribe, an ancient language to decipher, a legendary treasure to find.

"Captain!" Bepo called from the deck. "We're submerging soon!"

"Aye," Law replied. "I'm coming."

He did not move immediately, instead enjoying the sight of the Wano sunset for the last time in a long time. Reds, blues, blending into a cool-toned purple fading into black. A nice breeze blew, and the Polar Tang sailed on.

For the first time in seventeen years, Law felt free.

* * *

 _free talk_ : _thanks for reading :) the next chapter will be the last. thanks for sticking through it and i hope you've enjoyed! please leave your thoughts._


	27. Wingwoman

**Epilogue Part I: Wingwoman**

Several miles southeast of the Holy Land of Mariejois floated a small island called Manaport, known for its plain, tasteless bread packed so full of nutrients that one loaf could sustain an individual for forty days alone. Despite that the pastry tasted literally like cardboard and no amount of spice could bring a kick to the flatbread of monks, its nutritive properties were unheard of elsewhere in the four seas. The bread's recipe was therefore an island heirloom, passed down for centuries among the island's leaders and guarded with utmost discretion. Legend had it that it was actually bread that fell from the heavens, discarded by the gods occupying the regal palace of Mariejois; the citizens of Manaport were eternally grateful for the leftovers.

Kuzan, better known as ex-Supreme Admiral Aokiji, also known as The Blue Pheasant, munched on a loaf of mana and thought very much that this legend was a whole load of bullshit, because there was no way that the Gorosei sustained themselves on bread that tasted like sawdust because they cared very little about nutritive properties and only about decadence. After living for weeks on mana, he did not blame them.

He was in the largest tavern in Manaport, not-so-cleverly-named _The Mill_. It was admittedly not large in comparison to those of other islands, but busy enough that his gigantic stature did not stick out like a sore thumb. The pub was rowdy and hazy from the liberal number of men smoking cigars or pipes, and behind the bar, a middle-aged woman with biceps bigger than the tankard she was holding doled out the drink orders.

Kuzan was dressed in a loose blue tunic and gray pants made of linen, which left him breezy and cool while keeping him inconspicuous. Sitting across from him, dressed in a similar manner and looking none-too-pleased as she spread liberal amounts of honey on her toast, was Skye Spade.

"I don't think I can stay on this island any longer," she muttered as she stabbed the butter knife into her bread. "Everyone is fucking obsessed with this shitty bread and you can't do shit to make it taste like anything other than ass."

"Mm, and how are you so familiar with the taste of ass, Skye?"

She threw her butter knife at him and Aokiji caught it easily. It left his fingers tacky with honey, and he tsk-ed as he cleaned himself up.

"Meditation sure hasn't helped your temper, has it?"

"It sure has," she said acidly. "It's the only thing that stops me from not storming into Mariejois everyday and digging into the archives on my own. We've been scouting for over a month, Kuzan. We're not going to get anymore information waiting on the sidelines."

"Patience, Skye."

"When you asked me to help, I thought it'd be a week-long mission, max," she snapped. "I've got a crew to get back to and other shit to do—I can't keep dicking around with you like this."

Aokiji poured them both a liberal amount of a deep blue wine, made of a local type of gooseberry and muscadine. What Manaport lacked in gastronomy, it made up in its distillery and vineyards. Perhaps that's why every citizen of Manaport was content with sustaining on mana—they were permanently drunk.

"You know just as well as I do that this mission will help both of us," he said, "otherwise you would have left ages ago. We've both reached dead-ends in our other pursuits. Whatever the Gorosei is hiding about their Great Weapon…we need it."

"Yeah, but lurking around the outside of Mariejois isn't going to get us anything else. We know the layout of the palace now. The archives are on the fourth floor, western wing. We know the times of the shift changes, and we know the time window we have to grab what we want. We choose a hot, sunny day when they leave windows open. I get in easily, you sneak in through your contacts. Simple."

"It's not simple," Aokiji said sternly. "This is the second Reverie they've called in two years. Security will be tremendous and if we make one wrong move—"

"We won't," Spade said shortly, her green eyes glittering like metal clovers. "The Reverie means more strangers in Mariejois that we can blend in with. The fact that this one comes so close to the last means the World Nobles are scared. The Strawhats are only missing a handful of Poneglyphs, and with Robin, deciphering them is hardly an issue. The Hearts apparently have the most Poneglyph copies, but they don't have a means to read them. The Kid Pirates have terrorized most of Kaidou's old territory into submission, and Bonney's been progressing quickly too. Too many crews are on the right path to Raftel. If they're going to use their weapon, it's going to be soon."

"Or it should've already happened," mused Aokiji. "They should've used it at the Battle of Punk Hazard, or the second Battle at Marineford."

"Maybe it's not mobile. Maybe it can only be used to defend Mariejois."

"Or maybe," Aokiji said slowly, "they can't use it."

Spade nodded. "Right. Maybe it's just a piece. The monarchies arriving at the Reverie now are all tied to the Poneglyphs too. Maybe they're trying to do the same thing we are, assembling everything to fit the puzzle together. All the more reason to infiltrate _now_ , before they move it."

He studied her curiously. "You never did tell me what the Phoenix Pirates want out of this."

"Nothing has changed," she said sourly. "These dealings are still between me and you. Everything Phoenix related is off the table."

"So does Marco know you're here?"

Spade's eyes narrowed. "Of course he does."

"And he approves?"

"None of your business," she said brusquely. "Besides, you've hardly been forthcoming yourself. Are you working for Sakazuki?"

"Please, give me some credit."

"I give you too much already."

Aokiji sighed. "When will you stop being so paranoid of me? I've been plenty open with you. It's a Revolutionary Army deal, all right? The possibility of a giant weapon of mass destruction being hidden away by the World Nobles? Dragon wants a piece of the cake, too."

"Makes sense."

Kuzan drank his wine, tasting a sweet acid that flowed smoothly down his throat and barely burned. He was left with a nice, numbing aftertaste, and immediately his mind was covered with a comfortable fog.

"You're right. Enough with the dillydallying."

Spade rolled her eyes. "Thank God."

"We'll move in on the next sunny day. We can start planning our entrance and exit strategies tomorrow morning."

"Sounds fine with me."

The wine was strong, and Kuzan drank more of it. The liquid courage loosened his tongue.

"I've been dawdling because I am worried about you," he said.

Spade sipped at her own wine, peering over the rim of the goblet at him.

"Why?"

He shrugged. "You make this mission sound incredibly easy without dwelling on the consequences should we fail and be caught."

"I'm not being cavalier about this, if that's what you're implying," she said sharply. "I just genuinely think we can fight our way out if things go south. The worst of the worst is that we get exposed, not captured. I am confident in that."

"I know," he admitted. "I just do not want to make a mistake with you again."

Spade pursed her lips. "You aren't. Things are…I'm different now."

Kuzan chuckled. "You can say it, you know. You're much stronger than you were two years ago."

"Well, yeah." She said it like it was obvious, and it truthfully was. "But I meant it more along the lines of…I'm more sure of things now, like what I want. This is a collaboration, Aokiji. You don't have to worry about the other stuff."

He nodded. "All right."

Spade averted her eyes and tapped her fingers nervously around the wooden goblet cupped between her palms. She remained terrible at sentimentality, but forced herself to allow the awkward silence to linger. Aokiji finally relieved her of the burden with a topic shift.

"You are sure about this weapon, though, aren't you? Because we'll have wasted too much time if it's fake—"

"It's real," she interrupted. "I'm positive. I can feel it in my bones."

"Right," Aokiji said slowly. "Forgive me for being skeptical but…you never told me your first source. And I normally wouldn't demand something as personal as sources out of you, but if you're comfortable with telling me, I'd like to know."

"No."

"Is it Law?" Aokiji pressed.

"No."

"Marco?"

"No."

"Underworld contact? Hawkins? I swear if it's Basil Hawkins and his tarot-reading bullshit I am calling this mission off—"

"For fuck's sake, Aokiji," Spade said, eyes flashing. "What part of 'no' do you not understand? You can't just trust me?"

"I do," he said simply, "but I also am being practical. You said that the World Government had a giant, true weapon that they have hidden away for centuries that could shatter the world structure as we know it. You have one source, but absolutely zero proof, and no one to corroborate. I am pressing because this is a apocalyptic tip that you have no basis to. Feeling it in your bones is not enough for me to infiltrate the Holy Land."

"Fine," she said thinly. "I did it once, I can do it again on my own."

"Skye."

She downed her wine and threw her cup at him. Aokiji blocked it and the wooden vessel clattered to the floor and rolled away. A stranger three tables down picked it up but did not return it.

Spade glared at Aokiji, fire in her eyes and steel in her spine. Kuzan gazed at her impassively and waited for her to speak.

"If you want this to be a collaboration, you need to fucking act like it," she whispered. "I've followed you into battle on much less."

Aokiji cursed mentally—he was really never going to get used to this. It was so difficult to reprogram decades of behavior; he always saw Spade through a lens that connoted hierarchy, and the transition to colleagues was tedious and uncomfortable. Perhaps he had been a natural dictator more than he'd thought. Perhaps the role of Fleet Admiral—the position he'd never wanted but had almost died for—suited him quite well.

He heaved an audible sigh. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Spade nodded, accepting the apology, and waved down a passing waiter to ask for another cup and bottle of wine. When they were brought out to her, she popped the cork out effortlessly and topped both chalices to the brim. As she drank quietly, deep in thought, Aokiji took the time to study Spade's newest tattoo: a small black spade with the numeral "II" in its center, perched elegantly on the lateral part of her right wrist. It was by far her least ornate tattoo, but quite possibly Aokiji's favorite, even including the one on her inner arm honoring him. It suited her. She had always been subtler than the people she surrounded herself with.

"You're wrong," Spade said suddenly.

"Pardon?"

"About no one corroborating the tip, that's not true," she said. "I had one person corroborate."

"Who?"

Spade shook her head. "Won't tell you that either. But I trust them." She set down her now empty cup. "We should rest early. The sooner we get out of this place, the better, else I'll go mad."

"Too late," Aokiji chuckled.

Spade chucked the second goblet at him too.

* * *

The grand and ancient kingdom of Fiora was located deep in the New World, though its location often changed because it was considered a floating island. Made of mangroves whose roots extended deeply into the oceans but not enough to keep the land stationary, Fiora was a peculiar island in that despite its transient weather patterns, it had a vibrant and unique culture oriented around paint and art production. The mangroves of Fiora gave bloom to beautiful flowers whose petals and bulbs were crushed to make paints that were gorgeous to see, lovely to smell, and even gave the barest hint of inebriation to its viewer. The blossoms' colors and drug effects changed depending on Fiora's location, as the shift in latitude or longitude or ocean currents could change the sediment of the country ever so slightly. The quality of Fioran paint was exquisite, and given the emotional effects that the artworks could have, Fioran art was sold at exorbitant prices.

Fiora was an ancient country, ruled by an old, wise queen who continued a peace that had reigned since the founding of the World Government. Legend had it that no one could conquer Fiora because deep in the palace was a piece of ancient art so breathtaking, the merest glimpse of it caused invaders to lay down their swords and depart in a trance. Of course, urban myths had very little merit, and the success of Fiora's peace likely came as a result of its transient location, its substantial military force, and its world-renowned chemists who had learned how to maximally manipulate the mangrove blossoms into forms of bioterrorism.

Blissful in its peace, Fiora was a country full of culture and sophistication. The wine was aged, the food heavy, the night air full of song and cheer. It was, therefore, not a welcome recipient of pirates. Given its location, it did not see many individuals of ill repute, but when pirates did arrive on the shores of Fiora and made their presence known, they were fed a feast prepared by the palace chemists and disposed of accordingly.

On a humid summer day, when the sun had barely begun its descent in the sky, a small, elegant ship pulled into the eastern port of Sinomet, the capital of Fiora. Carved into its bow was the profile of a woman with a curved beak and vast wings. Echoing this statue were painted black letters declaring _The Wingwoman_ on its sides. The ship flew no flag, and as it pulled into the docks, only a handful of individuals were seen on its deck.

At the steering wheel was a tall, muscular woman with bright pink hair cropped short to her chin. She wore a light cotton blouse and white denim shorts; her outfit was completed by a black beret tucked neatly over her vivacious shock of hair and a silk blue bandana tied around her neck. A short sword hung at her waist on a leather belt, and a cigarette smoked at her lips as she navigated the vessel into the harbor.

Without any prompting, two men dropped an anchor over the edge of The Wingwoman _,_ rooting it in place. The men were identical: tall, swarthy, with dark black hair, similarly colored eyes, and long, hooked noses. Despite being identical, it took some effort to distinguish that the two men were twins. One was wearing a lime-green shirt with pink paisley print tucked into tight jeans of a light-wash; his hair was styled stubbornly upward, held stiffly in place with liberal amounts of wax, and his nose was pierced with a golden stud. He wore a fair amount of makeup, including green eyeshadow, a severe cat-eye, and layers of mascara, all of which were doing an excellent job of holding up despite the delicate layer of sweat beading over his skin.

His brother looked his opposite. His hair was long, silky, and braided to the side. He wore an all-black ensemble and had no other embellishments except for a single silver thin chain threaded through his left earlobe. At its end hung a miniature pocketwatch. Despite doing the same amount of work and wearing a heat-absorbing color, he did not even look flushed.

The woman at the helm signaled to both men, and the three of them descended the gangplank to the port. One of the brothers—the brightly colored one—carried a wooden crate under his arm.

"So, Beret," the monochromatic twin said, his voice surprisingly high for his appearance, "meet our contact first, or scout out the area?"

The woman named Beret puffed on her cigarette. "Scout. We've got some time. I know Poppy trusts her contact but trust is a load of horseshit this far out in the New World. You and Takana take those Rings and sell 'em. Make sure you talk us up as merchants all the way from South Blue. I'm gonna find the bar we're supposed to meet our contact at and get the lay of the land."

"Aye-aye," Takana said, his heavily mascara-ed eyelashes fluttering rapidly. "Will the others be all right alone?"

Beret snorted. "God helps whoever fucks with 'em. Sophia's been runnin' a fever and if anyone disturbs her, Nan and Dan will fuck 'em up. Plus, tonight's a full moon. Poppy can run wild."

"Members of the Mink Tribe do not like to be called wild, Beret," Takana said chidingly.

"I'm not sayin' it because she's a Mink. I'm sayin' it 'cause she's Poppy."

"Still," the other twin said.

Beret rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll stop callin' her that."

"Any word from the commander?"

"Nah, nothin' new. Should be back anyday now. Now scram. Call if anything goes wrong."

"Aye. C'mon, Nobu."

Nobu and Takana trotted off in the other direction, leaving Beret to her own devices. She had a feeling she was going to enjoy Fiora; it reminded her of Dressrosa, with its hustle and bustle and heavily spiced foods. Beret spent some pocket change and bought herself some snacks and cigars as she idled down the crowded streets, examining each kiosk while assessing the deserted alleys between each building. Every establishment in Fiora was color-coded according to its function: restaurants were blue, supermarkets green, local residentials a pastel pink, and hotels were bright yellow. Bars, clubs, and taverns were black, and whorehouses red. The port city of Sinomet was a clash of colors that should've been offensive to all eyes, but Beret somehow didn't hate it.

She found the bar she was supposed to meet her contact at and was surprised to find that it was a proper establishment connected to a luxury hotel above it. _The Impressionists_. What a load of upperclass bullshit.

Feeling bold, Beret entered the bar and found it rather empty—not shocking, given that it was barely past noon. She scanned the room: businessmen were in the corner, playing cards and puffing on pipes; some university students were engrossed in conversation at the bar while sipping on Bloody Mary's; even a family of five was tucked away on the lefthand side, eating a perfectly wholesome meal of arugula salad and spinach risotto. Beret internalized her budding incredulity with the mishmash of order—or lackthereof—that was Fiora and glanced at the last occupants of the room: two men, sitting at a bar, dressed in identical gray boiler suits.

The boiler suits were hideous, and that wasn't even coming from Beret's naturally judgmental perspective. She had purposely added the bandana to her outfit to seem more hipster and artistic, hoping to blend in with the Fioran locals, but it could not have been clearer that these two men had absolutely no intention of doing the same. The bartender, a young man in his thirties with a perfectly manicured mustache and goatee, shot dirty looks at the men in boiler suits, as if they offended him very personally with their sheer existence.

Beret sighed and made her way over to the bar, thinking that men's egos made them incredibly easy targets.

She sat in front of the bartender and ordered a top-shelf whiskey. She drank the first glass in silence, appreciating a brief moment of peace that being at sea didn't usually provide, before turning her attention to the two men out of the corner of her eye. One had bright red hair and freckles; the other wore a hat that declared "PENGUIN" on it and had sunglasses on indoors.

Beret motioned to the bartender for another drink. As he refilled her glass, she nodded slightly toward the strangers.

"Who're Twiddledee and Twiddledum?" she asked.

"Pirates," the bartender scowled. His nametag read Nigel.

"What? Pirates? What the hell are they doing here?"

"You just come from outta town?"

"Yeah, travelin' artist." Beret gestured absentmindedly in the air. "Took me forever to find this sacred place, and now there's pirates contaminatin' it?"

"They made some deal with the queen—either way, they're allowed to stay here for as long as needed. It's been a month. At least they're fairly civil, if that's any consolation for their horrid appearance." Nigel rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, no one would look good in that piece of shit."

"You should see the way their captain dresses." Nigel heaved a sigh. "I'd call him an abomination, if it weren't for the fact that he's a beautiful man hiding as an abomination. It barely works."

"Who's the captain?"

"Trafalgar Law, captain of the Hearts Pirates. Surely you've heard of them?"

Indeed, Beret had. She had the slightest feeling that she and her team had landed themselves in an odd trap without their knowing; the information about the Poneglyphs that Poppy had gotten from her mysterious source seemed a bit too convenient, especially when the crew that was known in the Underworld to be farthest along in the Poneglyphic scavenger hunt was somehow at this very island. Her mind hadn't quite put the pieces together yet, but she knew when to trust her gut.

"Sure I have," Beret said offhandedly. "I'll be sure to keep a lookout. Heard he's a mean one."

Nigel shrugged. "Pretty polite, actually. Tips real well."

Beret did not want to hear about how polite Trafalgar Law was, especially to a bartender who clearly had a crush on one of the most notorious pirates of the Worst Generation. She'd heard enough rumors about the disembodied Marines Law left behind when he pillaged Marine bases for even the most basic supplies. Not that she was complaining, but still. She preferred crews with a bit more subtlety.

The Hearts Pirate with red hair scooted off his barstool and headed for the bathroom. Beret watched as he left, thinking. It was risky, but if Law was the informant they'd been waiting for, she doubted there would be an equivalent exchange of information. It'd be nice if she could make the exchange one-sided—particularly in her favor.

She slid an a hundred beli bill on the bar with a quick, "Keep the change," before following the redhead toward the bathroom. The Hearts member had already entered the men's room. Beret checked back to see if his partner was preoccupied—he was chatting up a college girl now—before she waltzed straight into the men's room too. The Hearts Pirate glanced her way and visibly jumped at the sight of her, fumbling for his zipper immediately.

"Y-you're in the wrong room!"

Beret took advantage of his astonishment and strode over to him. In one deft motion, she slammed her sheathed dagger over his temple and the pirate collapsed silently onto her outstretched arm, motionless. He was heavy and sweaty, no thanks to the stupid boiler suit, but Beret was very talented with Armament Haki and shuffled him onto her back without much effort. In less than a minute, she escaped through a window onto the busy street. Some people stared at the girl with the black hat and pink hair piggybacking an unconscious man all the way back to the docks, but no one bothered to stop them.

* * *

Trafalgar D. Water Law was the closest person alive to the One Piece. There was something odd about knowing exactly when one was about to complete his destiny—like watching a thriller while knowing the ending—and it gave him pause. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted the journey to be over, but of course, that was a hesitation he wasn't willing to voice aloud. He masked it instead by dawdling in Fiora, waiting for something, but he wasn't sure what it was.

The Hearts Pirates had now been guests of Fiora for nearly a month now, the longest amount of downtime Law had given his crew since the first Battle at Marineford. They weren't exactly idle, but there was enough free time for the Hearts to grow complacent with a life at ease. Shachi and Penguin went out every night, and Jean Bart had even started an undefined relationship with a young, petite artist completing her doctorate degree at the local university. Law himself had indulged a fair amount—he was asked to model for local sculptors quite often—and he hung around the palace chemists enough to have developed a reputable understanding of the mangroves' properties.

The road to Raftel was almost clear. Law was missing one final piece of the puzzle: a portion of a Poneglyph that had supposedly been buried in the rubble of Ohara. There was no way Law could sail all the way out to West Blue at this point, and he was reluctant to ask the Strawhats for any help since they were so close to finishing the puzzle as well. So instead, he'd dug into the depths of the Underworld under the the alias Snow Leopard. After months of chasing useless leads, he'd found a Broker by the name of Panda who specialized in ancient Poneglyphs and research into the Lost Century. It did not take much for Law to tell that Panda was the real deal. All their information could be cross-checked and verified with Law's own, and soon they made arrangements to meet in Fiora for a desired exchange: Law would receive the Oharan Poneglyph, and Panda would receive a translated version of several Wano scrolls documenting the Lost Century.

Law felt quite comfortable with the exchange, and he'd therefore let down his guard. It was a foolish error that only happened because Fiora had lulled him into a dangerous false state of security and intended to punish him most severely for the oversight.

"So." Law let out a breath, and the air in front of him billowed with cigarette smoke. He stared out over the patio of his hotel room and watched the streets full of twinkling lights and innocent laughter beneath him. "Shachi's missing."

"Y-yeah."

"For hours now."

"Y-yep."

"And you were doing what in the meantime?"

Penguin mumbled something under his breath. Law didn't let it slide.

"Speak up, Pen, so the whole crew can know who exactly sucked your dick so hard that you didn't realize your crewmate was kidnapped."

"She was a college girl, okay?!" Penguin said indignantly. "I'm sorry, she was just really pretty and had some blossom perfume on and that made her super irresistible—"

"I can't believe it," Bepo said, aghast. "Shachi just got kidnapped because you were too busy getting a shitty blowjob!"

"It wasn't shitty, and he's probably fine! He probably just wandered out for a bit. This is Fiora we're talking about! We're practically royalty here—no one's gonna fuck with us."

"That's a stupid assumption," said Law. "Plenty of Fioran citizens hate that we're here, not to mention we were supposed to meet Panda today, and they were a no-show. There are plenty of people who would be more than happy to fuck with us." He let out another sigh. "This is my fault. We've gotten lazy. I should've known better."

"Shall I take a team to search the area, Captain?" Jean Bart volunteered, face grave.

"Yeah, and start with whoever blew Penguin."

"She wasn't—"

"It's the first fucking play in the book, Penguin. If we lose Shachi because of this, I'll cut your dick off so this'll never happen again."

Law was only half-joking, but Penguin paled and left the lounge immediately. Bepo gave an irritated huff and Law placed a hand on his shoulder.

"We should be able to find him," Law said. "We have his Vivre card, should our search of Sinomet come up empty."

"I know, but I told them that noon was too early to go out drinking!"

"P-permission to speak, Captain?"

Law glanced around and found the newest member of his crew hiding in the corner shadows of the room, his hand raised hesitantly in the air. He was a lanky, teenage boy with dark skin and curly hair who was still so nervous around the captain that his voice cracked with his inquiry.

"For fuck's sake, Ovid, we're not in high school. You don't have to raise your hand to talk. Just talk."

"A-aye," Ovid said. "I, uh, wanted to m-mention something I thought was weird today."

He paused, as if waiting for further prompting, but Law refused to give it to him. He just stared at Ovid dispassionately, his eyes narrowing with each passing second, before Ovid positively squawked and continued to speak.

"I-I was in the market, s-see, and t-there were these two men with long s-swords, and I've never seen them h-here before so they must have j-just arrived today."

Law did not doubt this. At first glance, no one could understand why the timorous Ovid who was still learning how to fight with his fists was a member of the Hearts Pirates. But Law did not have useless crewmembers; he'd plucked Vido straight out of his first year of study at Karakuri Institution; the boy was an engineering whiz and had a eidetic memory to boot.

"They were s-selling this c-crate of p-pretty violet flowers. They said they were all the way from South Blue, but I'm from South Blue and they didn't look anything like people I know."

Law had been very bored with Ovid observation until this last sentence.

"Odd choice for a lie then," he said, frowning. "Anything else about them?"

Ovid was visibly relieved that Law was interested. "Y-yeah! T-their swords looked like the ones you have from Wano!"

"Did they look like people from Wano?"

The boy cast down his eyes in embarrassment. "I've never met anyone from Wano so I don't know. But maybe? One of them looked like he could be a samurai. The other…not sure."

"Did they name what they were selling?"

"Yeah! They called the flowers Indigo Rings!"

Bepo gasped theatrically, and Law's frown deepened. The pieces were fitting together, slowly because nothing was overtly clear but also nothing was a coincidence; they moved toward each other like they were drawn by a weak magnetic force, then _snap_.

Law ground out his cigarette in a crystal ashtray.

"Ovid, go to the harbor and get a list of every vessel that arrived within the last week. I want names, occupations, place of stay, and order of business."

Ovid was delighted that he'd been entrusted with such a serious mission. "Aye-aye!"

The boy scuttled out of the room so quickly he would've left a trail of dust in his wake, if the luxury hotel Law was staying at allowed dust to collect.

The Hearts Captain shouldered his nodachi and fit his snow leopard cap snugly over his head.

"Come on, Bepo. Let's go find those Rings."

* * *

"Let me get this straight. You think Trafalgar Law, Captain of the Hearts Pirates, is Snow Leopard."

Poppy peered over her desk, her pristine snow bunny ears alert and pointed as she stared blankly at Beret. They were in Poppy's quarters on _The Wingwoman_. The room functioned mainly as a workspace that also happened to have a tiny mattress cramped into the corner. A large stack of hay and dried vegetables towered next to a desk cluttered with notes, wires, broken headphones, and a row of Den-Den Mushi of varying sizes and colors. There was a noticeable gap between the red SOS Mushi and black Interceptor Mushi, which Poppy left in case she ever got her hands on a white Blocker.

"Yeah," Beret said impatiently.

"And because of that, you ditched the meeting."

"Yeah."

"Okay. I mean, I can follow that decisionmaking. But what I really don't get is how you _somehow decided to_ _kidnap his chef_?!"

"I'm more than a chef, okay!" the redhead howled from his corner. "I'm a medical assistant too!"

Poppy ignored his outburst. "Not only did you _stupidly_ kidnap a member of one of the strongest pirate crews around, you didn't even take anyone important!" The Mink pulled her ears over her eyes in frustration. "You got a scrub!"

"I'm not a scrub!"

"Shut up!" bellowed Beret, aiming a kick at her captive's head and feeling the clunk of her boot against his face with some satisfaction. "Look, everyone knows Trafalgar Law keeps a tightknit ship and he'll do anything for a crewmate, even if it's a scrub! We haven't run this info exchange by the commander and if we can get what we want out of Trafalgar without giving anything up in the meantime, that's a plus!"

"You idiot!" moaned Poppy, tugging her ears so hard that Beret thought they'd detach from her head. "You're gonna start a war and the commander's not even around!"

"This is your fault for initiating an exchange without the commander's approval anyway!"

"I had approval!" the Mink argued. "Just because I don't run absolutely everything by you doesn't mean I don't have approval!"

"Why wouldn't you run anything by me—I'm your fuckin' Vice Commander!"

"Because you're too— _ugh!_ " Poppy banged her head against her desk, waking the Mushi from their slumber. "You don't get anything about Intel! We didn't come here just because I needed to talk to Snow Leopard—there's something in the palace I needed to look for on commander's orders. Snow Leopard was just a bonus! Everything was fine, but no, you had to go kidnap a Hearts pirate and plant a giant-ass target on our backs! Do you know what Trafalgar Law does to his enemies?"

"He chops them up into little tiny pieces," the Hearts captive offered, "but keeps you alive while you're dismembered, and then throws you bit by bit into the sea so you can consciously feel every part of your body drown independently."

"No one asked you, you buffoon," Poppy snarled.

"Name's Shachi, thanks for asking," he shrugged. "Look, if you just untie me and drop me off at the docks safe and sound, I promise I won't say a word about what happened. I don't even know your names or what your ship is called! There's no way we could track you down."

"The buffoon has a point."

"No," snapped Beret. "It's only been a couple hours. We call back the twins and sail out immediately; they can't chase us out at sea. Wait until we hear from the commander for further instructions."

"No, you idiot. He probably has a Vivre card, and commander's communication has been spotty because no one has a Blocker. Trafalgar will track us down in a heartbeat."

"Then what?" Beret said, feeling increasingly regretful of her rash decisionmaking. "We can't just sit here!"

Poppy rolled her eyes. "Call back the twins and we'll talk about terms for negotiation. Only thing we can hope is Trafalgar doesn't swear to eat us alive. If he does, we toss this sucker overboard and sail out as fast as possible."

"Veto!" squeaked Shachi. "Veto that plan!"

Poppy picked up her normal Den-Den Mushi and dialed Tanaka's number. He picked up on the second ring.

"Hey," said Beret shortly, "get your ass back to the ship—"

An unfamiliar voice cut her off. "He and his brother won't be getting back to the ship any time soon, I'm afraid."

A chill swept over Beret and she turned to Poppy, who had resumed pulling her ears over her head as if to block out both sight and sound.

"Captain!" Shachi shouted excitedly.

Poppy promptly chucked a stapler at his head and knocked him out.

"Well, that answers my first question," the voice said with the barest trace of amusement. "Shachi is alive and unharmed, I hope."

"Who the fuck are you?" Beret said coolly, though she knew the answer.

"I'm the one asking questions. If you'd like your two friends to be returned to you alive and well, you should answer me truthfully. Now. Are you Panda?"

Beret couldn't help but snort at the question—she could never get over just how ridiculous Poppy's Underworld alias was. Poppy glared at her from beneath her ears, flushing slightly.

"No idea what you're talkin' 'bout," Beret said breezily.

"I doubt that. What crew's flag do you fly under?"

"None."

"Miss." Trafalgar Law's voice was smooth and glacial, and any lesser woman would've shuddered. "Don't test me."

"I'm happy to try," she answered, unfazed. "You have a hostage, I have a hostage. We can push pressure points all day, see who likes their friend more."

"We could," he agreed. "Or you could come outside so we can speak face-to-face, and you can watch as I decapacitate your crewmates and throw them into the ocean. Wingwoman. A nice vessel."

Beret's blood ran icy. She hung up the Mushi immediately and turned to Poppy, who had already stood up with an air of resignation.

"Well, shit." She reached for the spear she hung on the wall. "Let's go negotiate."

"No, you should stay inside. You don't know how Fiorans will react to Minks—"

"With Trafalgar Law about to make me into rabbit meat, I couldn't give less of a fuck about racist Fiorans right now," Poppy said flatly.

Feeling slightly responsible and guilty, Beret led the way out onto the deck of the ship. On the way, Nan emerged from the mess hall, her graying hair singed slightly, and waved a soup ladle at them.

"Dinnertime?"

"Not right now.

Nan frowned. "Somethin' wrong, ladies?"

"Maybe," said Beret. "We might've gotten ourselves into some trouble. Keep Sophie inside. Also, there's an unconscious man in Poppy's room. If Poppy or I get hurt, kill him and run with Dan and Sophie."

Nan didn't even blink at the orders. "Is he why we're in trouble?"

"Yeah," said Beret grimly.

"Should we SOS the commander?"

"No!" Poppy was aghast at even the suggestion. "That's a waste of five million beli!"

"If we're in deep shit—"

"It won't help! We're in deep shit _now_. We call if we can't negotiate and Trafalgar holds us for ransom, but that's only if we stay alive!"

Nan's eyes widened. "You pissed off Trafalgar Law?!"

"I did. I'll fix it," Beret said shortly.

Beret and Poppy moved to the edge of the ship, where they saw a small group of people surrounded in a pale blue orb waiting in front of the Wingwoman at the docks. They were all men and dressed in the same uniform: gray boiler suits, except for a polar bear dressed in orange. Tanaka and Nobu were sitting on the ground, their limbs sliced cleanly off and floating eerily in midair. Neither thankfully looked in pain, though they were both pale.

Standing at the front of the group was Trafalgar Law. He looked even less intimidating than his bounty posters, which often zoomed in on his face. He was tall but lean and dressed in a horrible polka-dot teal shirt with his insignia on it, as if trying to overcompensate for his crew's utter lack of color. It was sweltering in Fiora, but he wore a spotted leopard cap. When Poppy saw him, she groaned.

"Snow Leopard. That stupid hat. I should've known."

Beret called out to her crewmates. "You guys okay?"

"We're fine," Nobu shouted back. "Limbless, but fine."

"Where's Shachi?" asked the Hearts captain.

"He's inside." Beret boldly descended the gangplank and stopped several feet in front of Law. "He's fine too. Give us our men, and I'll give you back yours. We'll call it a deal."

Law shrugged. "Sure. And afterward, I will cut your ship in half and kill everyone in it. Sound good?"

"We're not killed that easily."

"I should hope not. I'm looking for a good fight, actually, especially from Phoenix Pirates who are apparently trying to start a war."

Beret froze. Nothing about their ship or their appearance indicated their affiliation. Whitebeard Pirates had traditionally almost all been men, and even after Marco's rebranding, Beret's division was one of three that had women.

She arched an eyebrow, keeping her face as neutral as possible. "You've guessed the wrong crew."

Law seemed irritated. "Don't waste my time. It was not a guess. Two Wano samurai selling Indigo Rings—the actual flower, not the drug. It's too unlikely to be a coincidence. Where to procure the Indigo Ring bulbs is very rare information that I shared with a member of the Phoenix Pirates years ago. She wouldn't distribute it lightly. Not to mention you have a Mink onboard, and I know about Marco's secret alliances with both Wano and Zou." Poppy stiffened as Law's cold gaze landed on her. "Relax. Bepo's a Mink, too. I'm not going to kill you because you're a Mink—I'm going to kill you because you kidnapped my crewmate."

"If you give us our friends back," said Poppy stiffly, "and let us leave safely, I'll give you the Ohara Poneglyph fragment you're looking for."

Beret stared at her. Poppy had just given up her Underworld alias: the pride and joy of her last two years.

Law's eyes glistened as he digested the information. "You're Panda." He glanced briefly up at Poppy's ears. "That's not an obvious choice of alias."

Poppy flushed. "I just really like pandas—actually, what the fuck, that doesn't even matter right now."

"It's a shame that you backed out of our agreement. I had rather enjoyed working with you."

"Doesn't matter. Do we have a deal?"

Law appeared deep in thought. His gaze flickered between the two women to the ship behind them, then to the twins and the crate of flowers they'd just sold. Beret could actually see the gears working in his head as he appeared to reach a conclusion that Beret couldn't follow.

"I'd like to speak to your commanding officer."

Beret bristled. "I'm the commanding officer."

Law looked at her up and down, but his gaze was not overtly sexual, merely clinical, like he was examining a new weapon or piece of machinery.

"No," he said slowly. "If my deduction is correct, you are not."

"She is," said Poppy hotly. "She's the one calling the shots right now, so if you're going to make this deal—"

"Let me make it clear exactly what I think," Law interrupted, impatient. "I knew a member of the Phoenix Pirates years ago who is superb in the field of Intel and Reconnaissance, and your Intel Broker's Tracing patterns resemble hers remarkably. You have a small ship with no more than six people on board that flies under no flag, but have members of Wano and Zou which are both incredibly secluded countries, not to mention your Mink citizen is an impressive Underworld Intel Broker and you're selling Indigo Rings. You are not only Phoenix Pirates, but also the notoriously elusive second division of the Phoenix Pirates, which rumors suggest specialize in Intel and Reconnaissance. You would've gotten away with everything today, had you not made the very stupid mistake of biting off more than you could chew. Now that I have caught you, however, I'd like to speak to your commander. It's been a long time since I've seen her."

Poppy couldn't rein in her shock. "H-how do you know—"

"Because the events of two years ago were so chaotic, many people have forgotten exactly who the Battle at Punk Hazard involved. The Whitebeards at the time and I were in an alliance for quite some time. I suppose I can't blame you for not knowing. Your commander did quite a good job covering up the tracks, though I am surprised she never shared our acquaintance with you. You would've thought twice about abducting Shachi if you knew."

Beret didn't know how Trafalgar Law knew so much about them, and how he'd deduced so much from seeing so little, but his words made her skin crawl. He spoke with the frightening confidence of a man who was certain in his truths and would stop at nothing to prove them. Already his eyes had wandered back to the Wingwoman, searching for his target.

"Tell Skye Spade to come out."

"She's not here," Poppy said through gritted teeth. "Do you think she'd let us kidnap your crewmate if she were?"

"Ah. I suppose not." Law looked disappointed. "Fine. You can contact her. We'll seize your ship in the meantime."

"Now wait a goddamn minute!"

"Beret!" a child's voice appeared behind her. "That's a bad word!"

Beret whirled around and saw Sophie carefully sliding down the gangplank, her dark curls bobbing with each movement. She still looked slightly flushed with fever that made her freckles less obvious, but she smiled broadly up at them, showing off her missing front teeth.

"Beret! It's time for dinner! Poppy too!"

"Sophie, get back on the ship," hissed Beret. " _Now_!"

"What's going on?" Sophie said curiously, peering around Beret to Law, who seemed genuinely perplexed, as if children were foreign objects to him. "Who's this guy? And why are Nobu and Tanaka—" She screamed when she saw the twins. "They don't have arms! Or legs! Guys! Are you hurt?!"

She ran blindly toward them, and Sophie lunged to hold her back.

"We're fine," Nobu said soothingly. "Don't worry."

"But you don't have arms or legs!" Sophie craned her neck up at Law, her black eyes blazing with innocent rage. "Did you hurt my friends?"

Law arched an eyebrow, still blaringly uncomfortable around children. "Sort of."

"You!" Sophie shrieked and her tiny hands balled into fists. "Can't!

"Shit, back up!" hollered Poppy.

She yanked Beret by the shoulder just as Sophie's fist punched through the air, in Law's direction. A tremendous force threw the Hearts crew back several feet, and Beret and Poppy flew in the rebounding direction. The air rippled like a pebble dropped in a still pond, with each ripple hitting like an aftershock.

"Sophie!" Beret shouted, staggering to her feet. "Calm down!"

"That was weaker than normal—she's still got a fever," Poppy said. "Come on, Soph, let's go back on the ship okay?"

The child was beside herself. "He hurt the twins!"

"We're going to get them back," said Popply gently. "Don't worry, okay? Let's get you back in bed, you're still sick."

"I—don't—want!"

Law was already back on his feet and his sword was unsheathed. He looked furious and wary, but Beret did not doubt that he was ready to slice up a child who had just floored his entire crew.

"Wait!" she bellowed. "Please!"

"I'm not going to kill her," snapped Law. "Just incapacitate her."

"If you threaten her more, she'll stop listening to us!"

"She's not listening to you already, and I'm not going to risk—"

A howling gale suddenly rocked all the ships in the port and sent the flags flailing in its aftermath. It felt warm and cool at the same time and tasted like sea and smoke, and it filled Beret with relief.

"For fuck's sake, Law," said Skye Spade as she pulled her hood down and scooped Sophie up under one arm. "You're going to dismember a child?"

"Commander!" Poppy chirped.

"Commander," echoed Beret.

"Skye!" cooed Sophie happily, her rage all but forgotten at Spade's return.

For a man who had been so terrifyingly cold only seconds before, Law now appeared elated.

"Spade," he said, pleased.

"What's going on?" Spade said curtly, catching sight of the limbless twins still propped up on the ground. "Give them back their limbs, you asshole—they're with me."

"Fine," Law acquiesced, and the limbs reattached themselves to their owners promptly, "but I'd like Shachi back as well."

"Shachi? Why do we have Shachi?"

"You should ask your crew."

Spade glared at Beret. "What the fuck did you do?"

"It was a bad call," Beret said. "But honestly, I had no idea Trafalgar Law knew so much about the Phoenixes or I wouldn't have ever touched his crewmate—"

"That's not the point," Spade cut in. "Doesn't matter if it was Law or anyone else—never follow an impulse when you don't know anything about your enemy, especially when it's possible that the enemy knows everything about you. It was reckless and stupid."

"Yeah," said Beret, apologetic. "I know. Sorry."

Spade gave Sophie to Poppy. "Get Shachi to his friends. Twins, you guys all right?"

"Egos bruised, but more or less fine," Tanaka stated as he straightened up. He looked curiously between Spade and Law. "Commander, I didn't realize you were on a first-name basis with Trafalagr Law—"

"I'll explain later," Spade said. "Get back on the ship. You too, Beret."

"Aye."

As Beret left, she thought she heard Law say, "Leadership looks good on you," smugly, to which Spade promptly replied, "Shut up." The Phoenix pirates boarded their vessel and Poppy went to put Sophie back in bed. Tanaka stretched out his arms, relishing the sensation of being back in one piece. Nobu slid down and leaned his back against the ship's edges. They all let out a collective breath.

"That could've gone so poorly," Nobu said.

"It did," groaned Beret. "I fucked up—I'm sorry."

"Don't be. We couldn't have planned for _any_ of that—his knowledge base and deductive reasoning are quite impressive. Not to mention he knows an incredibly amount about Captain Marco and out commander."

"You know," Tanaka said thoughtfully, "as scared shitless as I was just now…couldn't help but notice that Trafalgar Law is one fine piece of ass, under all that hideous attire."

"Speak for yourself," intoned Nobu, expressionless. "But yes. He is quite fine."

"He's off limits, you guys," said Beret.

"Oh? Staking a claim for yourself?"

Beret rolled her eyes, disbelieving that they were having this conversation about a man who'd been two swipes from murdering them all. "Don't be stupid. It's not for me. Just trust me—he's off limits."

* * *

 _free talk: i lied. i thought i could do the epilogue in one chapter but it was too long, so i'll be splitting up. hope you enjoyed and please review!_


	28. Transmissions

**Epilogue Part II: Transmissions**

Law idled about the limited deck of the Wingwoman, taking in the details of the ship while Bepo sniffed around. The rest of the crew had returned to the streets of Sinomet at Spade's request ("Could you at least _pretend_ you don't want to be noticed by strangers?"). Law and Bepo invited themselves aboard the Wingwoman as Spade checked to ensure that her own crew members were unharmed; she did not trust Law's reassurances that the Wano samurai would suffer no long-lasting consequences.

"What do you think?" Law asked Bepo as he ran his hand along the gilded wood of the steering wheel.

"It's a nice ship," answered Bepo. "At first glance, you'd almost think it's a merchant ship since it looks so basic. But the wood is a really nice cedar and it's coated generously with top-quality Kairouseki. It's small and lightweight. They've prioritized speed over everything else."

"No room for cannons," the captain observed.

"Probably don't need 'em."

"No," agreed Law, "likely not. This isn't a combat ship because they're not a combat crew. It's better that they blend in with merchants. It's a practical ship."

"Plus it smells nice." Bepo was staring very pointedly at the rabbit Mink, who was conversing seriously with Spade as the pink-haired vice commander listened. Even from a human's perspective, the rabbit Mink was quite pretty, with a pointed brown nose and beautiful white ears that twitched with the slightest sound. Law was certain she could hear his conversation despite being so absorbed with her own. The rest of her body was fairly humanoid, interspersed with patches of fur and a fluffy white tail. Her large, onyx eyes were slightly wide-spaced, the way rabbits' eyes typically were, and she sported a scar over her left cheek that barely missed her left eye.

"Don't be so obvious, Bepo," Law quipped.

"W-What?"

Law did not have a chance to tease his navigator any further. Spade walked over to them, flanked by her crewmates, her expression somewhat resigned. Law tried not to be insulted, though he had expected a much warmer reaction from her.

"Sorry for the wait," she said. "Sophie's been running a fever and the twins are making sure she's eaten enough before going to sleep."

"No worries!" Bepo said eagerly. "Can I hug you now?"

Spade blinked several times, as if unsure if she'd heard correctly, but Bepo was difficult to turn down. She smiled and nodded, stretching out her arms and welcoming Bepo into a tight embrace.

"It's been so long!" the polar bear crowed. "We haven't seen you since Wano! And you never call! I missed you!"

"Missed you too," she said, patting Bepo awkwardly on the back.

He let her go and looked at her crewmates, averting full eye contact with the rabbit Mink when he glanced her way.

"Are you going to introduce us? What've you been up to? Your hair's grown out, it looks nice! Have you been busy? How's Marco? You smell different than you used to, like—"

"Breathe, Bepo," Law interrupted.

"Sorry…"

Law took his time drinking in the sight of Spade. She was wrapped in a tan cloak that hid her outfit from sight, though he was certain she was wearing the same uniform of a white tank top and jean shorts from two years ago. He had always liked Spade's long hair, draped familiarly over her shoulder in a loose braid, and that crease between her eyebrows had deepened since they'd parted. She looked sunkissed and robust, a vast improvement since the last time he'd seen her when she'd been emaciated from her imprisonment. Otherwise, not much had changed. Her eyes were still shrewd, absorbing all movements around them, but they met his and softened imperceptibly before looking elsewhere. Nonetheless, she frowned at him.

"Why do you look so unhappy to see me?" he smirked.

"You just tried to literally mutilate a child, Law. You can't expect me to be proud of you."

Law rolled his eyes. "You know how my powers work—it wouldn't have hurt."

"That barely matters."

"Of course it does, do you think I'd inhumanely chopped a child's limbs off, blood and pain and all?"

"Not sure, I wouldn't put it past you—"

The pink-haired vice commander cleared her throat, cutting Spade off.

"Introductions?" she said lightly.

"Fine," Spade said, peeved. "This man who nearly killed you is Trafalgar D. Water Law, Captain of the Hearts Pirates, and this is his navigator, Bepo."

"Nice to meet you!" Bepo said enthusiastically.

"This is my vice commander," Spade gestured to the woman next to her, "Jewelry Beret."

"Oh?" Law said. "Related to Miss Bonney?"

"She's my old sis," said Beret dispassionately. "Can't stand her."

"This is Poppy, my navigator." The rabbit Mink waved. "As you guys know, she's also an Intel Broker who goes by the name Panda. I trust you can keep that information to yourself."

"For a price, certainly," Law said, his voice pleasant.

"Of course," Spade muttered.

"Who else is onboard?"

"You met the twins," she replied. "Nobu and Tanaka, both were samurai-in-training back at Wano, but got kicked out before they could receive their certification."

"Because…?"

"Because they're gay as fuck," chirped Poppy, bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet. "Wano's still super behind on the times, bro."

"Thank you for outing us, Poppy," Nobu said dryly as he approached them.

"Please, it's not like either of you hide it," she returned.

Tanaka and Nobu both nodded at the Hearts. "Apologies for the confusion earlier. Commander has briefed us about your past alliance with Marco the Phoenix, and we apologize for the aggression committed against your chef."

"Same," Beret muttered.

"We hope that this will not incite any retaliation of war on your part," said Tanaka.

"We'll see," Law said cryptically, gaze never leaving Spade's. "Depends if your commander will have dinner with me tonight."

Spade ignored Law's suggestion completely. He got the feeling that she was having difficulty meeting his eyes fully—she stared instead determinedly at his nose. "There are two others, Nan and Dan. Those aren't their real names, but they're Sophie's grandparents and that's what she calls them, so that's what they go by. Nan's our chef, Dan's our doc. They're both ex-Marines. That's it."

"Is it?"

"Yes," said Spade, tone steely. "That's it."

"I see. So if I were to toss Miss Sophie into the ocean, I wouldn't find that she sinks like a stone because she's eaten the Gura Gura no Mi?"

Spade finally met his eyes. "No, you dick, she'd sink because she's a child with a fever, and adults shouldn't joke about throwing children into the ocean to drown."

"I don't appreciate being treated like an idiot, Miss Spade."

"I've already introduced you to my crew. I don't owe you any additional information. You threatened my crew and mutilated two of my men—I don't hear you offering me an apology."

"Fine, sorry about that," Law said dismissively. "I'd like to have dinner with you tonight."

"I am undercover, Law. I'm not going to waltz into public with one of the most high-profile and notorious pirates around and have dinner. I've actually got shit to do."

Law felt the barest stirs of irritation; he must've imagined seeing Spade again a million times in his head, and while no envisioned scenario involved Spade jumping into his arms at first sight, they all ended with some variation of him bending her over a surface and fucking her into oblivion. The resistance was annoying.

"Leave us, the rest of you," he said coldly.

"Aye-aye," said Bepo, and he left promptly, but not before waving shyly at Poppy.

The Phoenixes didn't move, but glanced at Spade for orders. Law arched an eyebrow at her, and after a brief minute of unspoken communication, Spade sighed.

"Give us a moment, guys."

"Call if you need anything," said Beret.

Law waited for the rest to disappear from sight before turning his attention to Spade fully.

"You don't need to be so belligerent," he said coolly.

"Then stop being such a dick," she said calmly. "I'm the fucking commander of the Phoenix Second Division—you do _not_ get to order me around."

Law paused, reflecting on their interactions thus far.

"You're right," he said, his final judgment deeming that he had indeed been pushier than necessary. "I apologize."

Spade's lips quirked. "Thanks."

"I just didn't expect you to be so standoffish. I know it's been a long time since we've seen each other, but you called me fairly recently. I suppose I wanted a kinder reaction, since we've been…more than friendly with each other."

"Law, before you keep talking about things you really should keep to yourself, I should warn you that Poppy has really insane hearing."

"What do you mean?" he said slyly. "Don't all friends get each other off over Mushi calls?"

"God, I fucking hate you," she hissed. "You know that's not why I call—"

"I know, but I appreciate the direction of where the calls tend to turn."

"Just stop," she groaned. "Why are you traipsing around in Fiora without even bothering to hide? How do you have translated versions of the Wano scrolls?"

"Why are _you_ in Fiora?" Law returned. "How do you have a copy of the Oharan Poneglyph? Who is Miss Sophie, and why does she have the power of the Gura Gura no Mi? All these are wonderful discussions we could have over an enjoyable dinner with fine wine, Miss Spade, followed by me doing all the things I told you I'd do to you in our last call, if you so desire."

"Fuck you."

Law grinned and leaned down close to Spade's ear.

"Believe me, Spade. Tonight, you will."

* * *

The first time Spade called Law after they'd parted ways was a mere two weeks since the Hearts left Wano. It was random, in the middle of the night, and it was to the personal Den-Den Mushi that Law kept at his bedside. It rang, and the Mushi announced an unknown caller ID, but Law knew who it was before he even picked up.

 _Hey, hey, how are you, fine._

 _Oh, it's late where you are. Sorry about that._

 _It's fine, I don't sleep much anyway. Is something wrong._

She paused for a long time, but Law could hear her breaths shake and could imagine her alone in a room, curled under blankets and palms fisted in sheets, and he knew what was wrong.

 _It'll take time for them to stop._

 _I know._

 _They're not real._

 _I know._

 _I still have them too._

She hadn't expected that confession, because Law hadn't expected to give it. But it was true—the flashbacks happened at the most unpredictable times, triggered by the oddest things: a certain lurch in the submarine reminded him of how it'd felt being tossed about in that cell; the right metallic clank could send him back thinking he was in handcuffs; sometimes Law would look around his operating room in the dead hours of the night and he'd see Uni standing in front of him, splattered in blood, asking why Law hadn't saved him.

He still had them too, and the advice he gave to Spade was the advice he gave to himself. Empty reassurance, grounded on nothing but hope.

 _Maybe I should've left with you_.

And Law didn't know what to say to that, because the only thing at the tip of his tongue was, _Maybe you should have._

* * *

Spade sat on her bed, relaxing in the brief moment of quiet in her quarters aboard the Wingwoman. She wanted desperately to nap, but nearly having her crew killed by Law suggested that napping was probably not a great idea at the moment. Part of her wanted to tell off Beret more for being _so incredibly stupid_ as to kidnap a Hearts Pirate without a back-up plan, but she could tell Beret was fully regretful of this mistake already. Spade did not think berating her further would accomplish anything more. It was by pure luck that Spade had arrived in the nick of time, though from what Poppy had told her, Law had already figured out who they were and wouldn't have killed them. So perhaps it was less luck, and more Law being the genius he was.

That made Spade feel worse than having to attribute everything to luck.

She emptied her travel bags and began to unpack. The Wingwoman was the fastest vessel she'd ever traveled on, with the trade-off being space. Even as the commander, Spade's sleeping quarters were majority occupied by her twin-sized bed. A cedar dresser was built into the wall, while a heftier desk made of oak was affixed to the floor near the entrance. A small bookcase was built on top of the desk and was crammed to the brim with atlases, history texts, and binders of translation work. Spade sat at her desk and pulled open the drawer, containing a mess of scrap paper and old transmissions. She ran her hand along the left wall of the drawer and found a minute dip where the wall met the roof. She dug her nail into it and pulled lightly; the false wall fell away, and Spade withdrew a thin, worn gray binder from the hidden compartment. She flipped it open and delicately turned the pages, all covered in Poneglyphic symbols with handwritten notes in the margins, while comparing them to a sheaf of paper that she'd brought from her travel bag. She traced over the symbols carefully, brow furrowed.

Someone knocked at her door, and Spade closed her drawer immediately.

"Commander?" Poppy's voice came uncertainly. "You wanted to talk?"

Spade relaxed and took out the binder, but replaced the drawer to its closed position before saying,

"Yeah, come in."

Poppy walked in, her eyes wide and anxious.

"I'm sorry about what happened. Beret shouldn't have—"

"Beret wasn't the only one who fucked up," Spade said sharply. "You arranged for a meeting with Snow Leopard the day you arrived? In-person Broker exchanges _always_ need to take place days after you've scouted out the area. Law suspected the Wingwoman immediately because you were the newest ship at the docks before his own man went missing; you might as well have put a giant sign on our ship saying 'We suck at kidnapping, come find us!'"

Poppy's ears drooped as she bowed her head. "I'm so sorry!"

"Plus, Snow Leopard's information wasn't even the priority of coming to Fiora," said Spade relentlessly. "I told you to prioritize infiltrating the Fioran palace, not make contact with Snow Leopard, but I'm sure you ditched that order because you were more interested in Law's Poneglyph information than whatever was in the Fioran basement."

"Yes, you're right—I'm so sorry…"

Spade gave an aggravated sigh. "Poppy, I know you have your own interests but when I give you orders, I need you to follow them even if I'm not here. Beret is in charge of running this ship and enforcing safety procedures when I'm gone, but you're in charge of Intel, which is this division's whole purpose. When I tell you something's important, it's not to give you meaningless chores. Whatever the Fioran palace is hiding is infinitely more useful than anything Law could give us."

"It won't happen again," said the Mink resolutely. "I will make up for this mistake by being on bathroom duty for the next month—"

Spade waved her hand, cutting her off. "I'm not that cruel. With your nose, bathroom duty for a week is enough of a punishment. Just don't fuck up like that again."

"Yes, Commander!"

"Good. Now, business." She handed Poppy the binder and the newest Poneglyphic transcription.

The rabbit Mink's eyes almost glowed gold. "New material?!"

"What'd you think I was gone for a month for?" Spade said wryly. "This is fresh out of Mariejois, Poppers."

"Mariejois?!" she squealed. "Oh my God, what is it what is it whatisit—"

"Aokiji and I think it's the final piece to the weapons compilation."

Poppy nodded as she studied the sheet. "Holy shit…this is real! So if we can decipher this, we can use whatever weapon the World Government has—"

Spade held up her hand to stop her. "We don't know. It could just be instructions on how to operate it, which doesn't help us locate the damn thing."

"Right, right. So same procedure? Do what I can, and if I really can't figure it out…"

"I really don't want to ask Robin," sighed Spade. "The race to the One Piece is getting too close now, and Marco doesn't want to back anyone in particular."

"But she can help _us_ ," argued Poppy. "This isn't us backing someone for no reason; Robin can give us what we want, and if this compilation gives us the means to somehow overthrow the World Government, then who the fuck cares if Strawhat Luffy becomes Pirate King?"

"I know." Spade rubbed her temples. "I just…just do what you can first, okay? I looked it over and picked out what words I do know. Do what you can and then we'll decide if we should ask Robin."

Poppy looked at Spade with a strange, knowing expression on her face. Out of the crew, Poppy had travelled with Spade the longest, and though Spade's vice commander was Beret, she and Poppy spent so much time together doing Intel work that it was likely that Poppy actually knew Spade best. She could tell Poppy wanted to say something but didn't know if she had the right to.

"Out with it, Poppy."

"Sorry, I may be out on a limb here especially since I just found out about you guys…but is it because of Trafalgar Law?"

"Sort of," admitted Spade. "But not entirely for the reason you think."

Poppy opened her mouth to probe further, but Spade decided she didn't want to explain herself.

"I'll tell you about it when you finish the translations, Poppers," she said.

Poppy nodded. "Okay. I'll get started. And, um…we just all wanted to say. We think you should go to dinner with him tonight."

"What?"

"Beret and I." Poppy inched toward the door as Spade's expression clouded. "The twins too! We, um, think it would be good."

"Poppy, if you have time gossiping about my love life, I'll do these translations myself."

She opened the door and dashed out so fast she left a trail of dust bunnies in her wake. "Love you too, commander!"

* * *

It was always Spade who called Law, never the other way around. She wasn't sure if Law would call her, if given the opportunity, but she didn't dwell on useless possibilities because she ensured they never happened. She only called him on Burner Mushi, unpredictably, and only when she really needed him. Like Law promised, the intervals between flashbacks lengthened, and with it, so did the times Spade called. She could never articulate exactly what was appropriate—she didn't want to use him as an emotional crutch, but that was what Law ended up becoming for her, and she felt guilty about it. So when she could wean herself off, she did, to the point where she could go weeks without thinking about him. Still, even when she was well, she realized that she always missed him, almost in the same way she missed Ace, except she could never pick up a Mushi and call Ace, so it felt silly to enforce that same restriction on herself when Law was well and alive. But she did it all the same.

Spade spent a long time recovering in Wano, after the Strawhats and Mink Tribe returned to sea and Marco broke into Impel Down while Kaidou and the Marines clashed at Marineford and freed Izou and Haruta. The Phoenix Pirates rose from the ashes of the second Battle at Marineford, ready to claim Blackbeard's old territory and contest some of Kaidou's, who lost two Disasters in the Battle and no longer had the manpower to control his division of the four seas. Marco emerged as the fourth Yonkou, secretly backed by powerful countries and rulers independent of the World Government, like Zou and Wano, and in doing so, restabilized the regions that had fallen into chaos after Whitebeard's death.

Before Marco left for the Second Battle at Marineford, he asked Spade to be his second division commander.

"You know I can't," she said. "I don't command the trust of your men, and I can't fly under Whitebeard when I never swore an oath to that man."

"Then swear an oath to me," Marco responded gravely. "I'm gonna be captain of the Whitebeard Pirates."

Spade stared. "What brought this on?"

"All the shit that's happened up to this point," he said. "I should've done this years ago, but I didn't know how to do it without losing the memory of Pops in the process. I can't _be_ Whitebeard 'cause I ain't him, but then I realized I didn't need to be. We're gonna change names. The Whitebeard Pirates are gonna become the Phoenix Pirates—we'll carry on Whitebeard's legacy, but the family I'm gonna build is mine. And that includes you, no matter what anyone else says."

Spade was too emotional after that point to really remember what exactly she'd responded with, but after furthering cajoling, she'd accepted the position on the condition to make the second division her own and to build it from scratch. After Marco sailed off to the Battle of Marineford, Spade combed through the Wano archives and stumbled upon the same scrolls that Law had found months before. She did the same thing he did, memorizing them, transcribing them, and she scoured the country for any translators. She found none, but instead cornered a rabbit Mink who had quietly been stalking her for some time. Spade was impressed with Poppy's ability to follow her incognito despite having gigantic ears and learned that she was an Intel Broker of intermediate level who idolized Hurricane but was too embarrassed to introduce herself. Poppy begged to join Spade's division and even found two ex-communicated samurai to join as well, and that was how Spade's own family began.

* * *

Whenever Spade called, they never talked about where they were, or what they were doing. Any updates about the Hearts or Phoenix Pirates were heard through the Underworld, delivered by news gulls, or passed through the grapevines. Neither Law nor Spade had Blocker Mushi and therefore did not want to risk any information being Tapped, but they also simply did not ask what the other was up to. Their conversations did not involve the present, but instead they dwelled on pasts. They were private—Law didn't even tell Bepo when Spade called—and sometimes became highly personal. Sometimes, Spade called even without the prompting of a flashback, and they would talk through the night about an interesting article they read, a funny folktale they heard, and this would delve into stories from their childhood, their parents, their dreams and why they had them.

Law opened up to Spade in a way he'd never expected to open to anyone: he talked about Flevance, his parents, the genocide, the Donquixote crew, the half-year Corazon had spent dragging him from hospital to hospital. He spoke about _feelings_ : what it felt like to have so many structures of authority fail him, from the World Government and Marines to the entire institution of medicine to his former captain and crew, and the pressure he felt to embody the right kind of authority he'd sought for through his tragedies. In return, Spade told him some things about Ace, but more about Aokiji and her time in the Marines, and after a long time, she spoke of her mother whom she loved, and her father whom she swore she'd kill once she brought the World Government to its knees.

They spoke and they listened, but more so than anything, they simply existed.

The one time Spade brought up anything real and relevant to their present goals was in regards to Donquixote Doflamingo.

It had been a long time since she'd called, but when the Mushi rang in the dead of night, Law answered with the conviction he always had whenever she called. They went through the same greeting they always did— _Hey, hey, how are you, fine, is something wrong_ —and this time, Spade actually answered, "Yes."

Law straightened up in bed.

"Are you safe?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm okay. I just." Her words were clipped, and she stopped after every two syllables, like it cost her physical pain to remain calm and collected while giving this report.

"I thought. You should. Know."

He realized that she was hyperventilating, and it made him ache.

"I just. Saw Do. Flamingo."

Law stopped breathing.

"Where? What? How? Are you hurt?"

Haltingly, Spade recapped that she was tracking a recent mass transaction of Indigo Rings that Eustass Kid had just put on the Underworld Black Market. The drugs had changed hands several times, but she'd managed to trace them through several of Kaidou's old channels before she followed the dealers to a final drop-off point and come face-to-face with Donquixote Doflamingo, well and alive, restored as one of Kaidou's prime minions now that the Yonkou had lost two Disasters.

"I got out of there as fast as I could," she said. "I'm safe right now."

Her sentences came smoother now, and Law imagined her in the warmth of some cabin, guarded and protected and safe.

"Good," he said quietly.

He wanted to ask where she was, where she'd found him, where Doflamingo stood and breathed at this very moment. He wondered if there was a limit to the distance between his and Doflamingo's location that would make him think, "No, it's not worth such a long detour." Already his blood was boiling and his vision was red; godfuckingdammit, some people just wouldn't die even when they deserved it the most.

"What will you do now?" he asked carefully.

"I'm going to make my report to Marco and wait for further instructions," she replied. "I won't engage unless he wants me to."

"But don't you want to—"  
"I learned my lesson last time," Spade cut in. "I know what happens when I lose sight of the bigger purpose. Doflamingo isn't my bigger purpose. And he isn't yours either."

"Then why tell me?"

"Just thought you should know. Because, you know," she laughed weakly. "I promised you a long time ago I'd keep you updated about him."

Law scoffed. "Yes. Thanks."

"The first thing you do after you're Pirate King is find him and kill him," she said. "Your first royal execution. But not a moment sooner. All right?"

He chewed the inside of his mouth, unwilling to compromise.

"Luffy will beat you if you get sidetracked now, Law."

"I know," he said reluctantly.

"We have better things to do than to chase him down now."

He heard it—her own hesitation. She wanted Doflamingo dead just as badly, but she resisted, and she expected Law to promise to do the same. They'd both lost too much to Doflamingo already. Any more time spent on him was just more wasted. She knew this, and he did as well, but they both needed the reassurance. She'd called him first, even before calling her captain, because in this regard Law knew her more than Marco ever could. Knowing this calmed Law down significantly.

Law was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to see Spade in person. This stupid snail wasn't enough; it had been half a year since they'd left each other in Wano, and Law had half-thought that these idiotic feelings would just go away by now, but no. He wanted Spade in front of him, close enough to touch, to feel the heat jumping off her skin. He wanted to grab her and throw her on his bed, wanted to run his mouth down her neck while he undressed her, wanted to spread her legs and be buried deep enough to make her scream.

"Law?" Spade said, jostling him out of his fantasies.

"I heard you. You're right. He's not a priority right now."

"Yeah, he's not."

His right hand found its way under his sheets. He touched himself experimentally, debating if this was a good idea and realizing that he didn't really care, because he'd just learned that his archnemesis was actually still alive, and he was engaged in a terribly undefined relationship with a woman he loved but may never see again. His cock, simple and eager, agreed with his bad decision-making and rose to the occasion quite easily.

"Spade," he said. "Are you alone?"

"Yeah, I'm in a hotel room. Why?"

"No one will bother you?"

"No…" She sounded hesitant. "Why?"

"Good." Law shut his eyes and leaned back against the headboard. "Take off your clothes."

"Are you fucking serious—"

" _Now_."

The edge in Law's voice was the one he used whenever they were in the bedroom. It was a relief to employ it and even better to hear the shallow gasp on the other end of the line. After a short delay, he heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper sliding open, the click of a buckle, the thud of jeans falling to the ground, followed by lighter articles of clothing: a shirt, bra, panties. He could imagine Spade on the bed, naked, that flush high on her cheeks whenever she was embarrassed, and it made him grin. Her hair would've grown out by now, and he imagined it long and wavy, falling down her front, over her breasts and nipples peaked from the cold, and he imagined her legs spread and her insides wet.

"You know how to touch yourself?" he said, stroking himself lazily and feeling the beads of precome spill over his arousal.

"Of course, you asshole," was the heated reply.

"Good. Then get on all fours, the way you always liked to be fucked."

He heard sheets rustling and knew she was obeying. Spade's submission turned Law on so much; he loved the way the normal fire in her eyes was supplanted by yearning in the bedroom, and he relished knowing that even over Mushi, this dynamic had not changed.

"I miss fucking you."

Spade didn't reply, and Law didn't expect her to. He could hear her breaths get shallower with each passing word.

"I miss the noises you make when I suck your nipples and you don't know whether to push toward me or pull away. I miss the color your skin turns when I mark your neck, your breasts, the way you bruise when I grip your thighs apart so I can finger you. I miss being inside you." His dick throbbed at the memory. "I miss how hot and wet and tight you are whenever I start fingering you, but then you open up the moment I start scissoring."

Spade made a choked noise at the other end of the line and he imagined her doing that very act to herself now.

"Are you on all fours now?" he said. "Your hand between your thighs, dripping wet, worked open and ready for me?"

Her response was muffled into pillows and it annoyed him.

"You know how much I like hearing you, Spade," he said, his shaft gripped in his palm. His eyes were closed, but he could see her in front of him like reality: face buried in the pillows, ass up, hand working between her thighs. "Answer me."

"I said," her breaths came raggedly, "yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I…I'm— _ah_ , ready."

"Ready for my dick inside you, aren't you?" He rubbed his arousal and grazed the slit underneath with his thumb. A pleasant stinging sensation rippled down his body, and he bit back a groan. "Do you miss my dick, Spade?"

"I…" The sentence bled off into a wanton cry, but Law persisted.

"Tell me."

"I…I miss it."

"Miss what, exactly?"

"Ah, fuck you…I miss your cock…buried in me."

"You miss me bending you over and pounding into you from behind?"

Spade moaned and it sent Law's imagination into overdrive. He saw her in front of him, her hips gripped in his palms, and he thrust into his closed fist the way he wanted to slam into her. He struggled with keeping his own breaths even now, but he completed the picture for her.

"Do you miss begging me?" He remembered the way she begged, resistant, reluctant, but uncontrollable, her voice high and needy and her whimpers delicious. He could hear them now, through the Mushi—short gasps of desire at the edge of delirium. "I miss hearing you beg me…to be harder, faster, rougher…" Fog began to encroach on the edges of his mental image, and his body felt hot like she was right there in bed with him, and he thrust up into his hand like Spade was sitting on top of him, riding him, head thrown back in abandon, and what a nice picture that was, too.

"Yes," whimpered Spade, "I miss you."

"Spade," he gasped.

He barely heard his own name, the craving _"Law_ " that registered only because his subconscious knew to look for it amidst the blinding white of orgasm. His come spilled out over his hand and onto his abdomen, and it felt hot and sticky as it pooled on his skin. He did not do a very good job containing the mess, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he dreaded the explanation he'd have to give his crew when he washed his sheets so shortly after their last laundry day.

Law opened his eyes, registering as he returned to his room in the Polar Tang, alone. The Den-Den Mushi sat on his nightstand, its lids heavy and motuh agape as it mimicked the expression of its user, and Law laughed at the sight.

"What?" Spade said shortly, and the Mushi's expression morphed into one of uncomfortable exasperation.

"Nothing. I just know what a Den-Den Mushi looks like post-orgasm now."

"Oh, _my God_ —"

"Nothing to be ashamed of, Miss Spade."

"I'm hanging up now, you fucker."

"I think you occupied that position for yourself today."

"Have you always been this self-important?"

"Yes, I hope you haven't forgotten."

Her response was an incoherent groan, and Law chuckled as he readjusted himself on his pillows. He brought the Mushi from his bedstand to lay next to his head. The pleasure of afterglow was now fading into a startingly clear sobriety that Law usually slept off to avoid. He'd never been the cuddling type, but his bed felt abnormally large now. The heat had escaped his skin, and he felt cold.

"How long will it be like this?" he asked, his amusement gone.

"What do you mean?"

"Us. Like this. Just…voices in air."

Spade didn't answer immediately. He heard her move around on the bed and the slide of a comforter.

"I don't know," she said quietly.

He could tell she wanted to say more, but something held her back. He understood—what was the point? He felt foolish for already asking his original question, for which there was no answer. They had established that their paths weren't meant to converge at the start, and there was no telling if it ever would again. This was how it would be for now, for forever, just sporadic calls and the occasional time Law would pull out Spade's Vivre card from his desk and watch it tug in a random direction, beckoning.

"I miss you quite a bit, Spade."

"I miss you too," she said softly. "Goodnight, Law."

The call ended, and he was left alone, speaking to the dark.

* * *

Spade had never intended for their calls to turn explicit, but since that first time, each subsequent call almost always ended in sex. She couldn't really complain about it. They never asked if they were sleeping with other people because it didn't matter, and the sex by Mushi (was it called Mushi sex? The terminology grossed her out) was welcome for the both of them. She knew Law was being far from celibate—indeed, it wasn't like they could be in monogamous relationship when she and Law could possibly never see each other again—but Spade was Spade, and after everything that happened with Doflamingo, she was even less inclined for one-night stands. Beret sometimes asked if Spade ever wanted to find a fling, even offered once or twice to do the deed herself, but Spade had taken a leaf out of Law's book and decided that sleeping with her crewmembers was a bad idea.

Beret was the fourth person to join Spade's division but easily fit the role of Vice Commander, not because she could beat the three existing members of Spade's crew, but because she felt comfortable calling the shots whenever Spade decided to embark on a solo mission. She joined because she owed Marco a debt from childhood, and because she was eager to leave South Blue, bitter to the very end that her sister had not taken her along when she'd left.

After tracking the Indigo Rings Eustass Kid had sold to gain the capital to rebuild his crew, Spade had set sail to South Blue on Marco's orders to obtain more of the original source. Marco's spasms were slowing down but still happened, so they needed more of the drug for prophylaxis. But more importantly, the Underworld had exploded with the introduction of the new opioids, and Indigo Rings sold for as high as three hundred thousand beli per pill. Rumors had it that pirates and Marines alike were laying claim to Baterilla to find the special strain of Indigo Ring required for opiate production, and, feeling responsible, Marco told Spade to handle the situation.

Spade had protested. South Blue would take weeks if not months to sail to, and she simply didn't want to go to Baterilla.

"Why me?" she said angrily.

"Fastest with you 'cause o' winds," Marco said, not even looking up from his work. "And 'cause you need to get some closure 'bout Ace."

"What."

"You never forgave him for not tellin' you 'bout his childhood or who his old man was. Maybe goin' to Baterilla, you'll find something or someone who knew 'em. It'll help you."

"I already got closure about Ace, Marco. I'm fine."

"Fuckin' Trafalgar Law ain't the same as closure. You're sailin' out tomorrow. Now stop botherin' me and help me decode this transmission."

So on the orders to claim Baterilla as Phoenix territory, to retrieve an ample supply of Indigo Rings, and to obtain questionable emotional closure regarding a dead lover, Spade arrived at Ace's birthplace to find it in utter chaos. It turned out that the island had been under Marine martial law since the first Battle of Marineford, when Ace's heritage had been announced. Local citizens were strictly governed for no real reason at all, but they all knew the cause, and they directed their hatred toward the remaining members of the Portgas family. Since the phenomenon of the Indigo Rings, small paltry pirate crews attempted to raid Baterilla several times per month, leaving the island in a constant state of punishment, repair, and starvation.

Spade arrived knowing none of this and would have stumbled into a quagmire of nonsense were it not for Jewelry Beret, who had found her way to the island several months prior.

"Been wanting to join the Phoenix Pirates since you guys announced your return. Dunno if Bonney ever told you but Marco saved our family when we were kids. Figured one of you guys would sail this way eventually." When Spade asked how Beret knew how to identify her, she shrugged. "Grew up with a crush on Firefist Ace, y'know. Memorized your bounty face a long time ago."

Beret was four years younger than her sister but in many regards more mature. She was quieter than Bonney and tended to be more careful about social niceties, though her youth did lend her a fearless rashness that led to snap decisions. She told Spade where to hide during the daytime, which routes to take to avoid the night patrol after curfew, and most importantly, introduced her to the few remaining members of the Portgas family that had not been imprisoned or killed by Marines or rebels.

Spade found out quickly that she actually hated most of Ace's remaining relatives. Plighted by the revelation that one of their own was the bastard son of the Pirate King, many blamed Ace for their misfortune and cursed his existence as well as his death. It took an explicit order from Marco for Spade not to just leave Baterilla as she found it, with the Portgases dangling by the barest threads of their remaining pride.

"Now you understand what Ace's childhood was like," Marco said calmly when she called to make her initial report. "He grew up with everyone around him sayin' shit like that."

"Right, so excuse me if I don't give a flying fuck about his _blood_ relatives who think he's better off dead," she snapped. "I'm taking those Rings and getting out of here—this whole island can just rot in hell."

"Nope. You're claimin' it."

"Why? These ungrateful bastards think Ace was this cursed, terrible demon who burned down the Marines and therefore deserved to die! They don't even care what Ace was really like!"

"Ace was kind. He cared about his family and strangers he picked up on the side o' the road. He was fiercely protective of the people he loved and the people who couldn't fight back. If you want Ace's legacy to matter, if you want people to remember him the way Ace really was, then you start by provin' the Marines bastards wrong. You start by claimin' Baterilla, establishin' Phoenix protection over it under his name, and you _make_ the people grateful for 'im. And I know you don't think it's gonna work, but it's a fuckin' order, so just do it."

"They're not going to give a fuck," Spade muttered.

But she did what Marco told her to do, and true to her prediction, the citizens of Baterilla did not give a fuck. They rejoiced her driving out the Marines and their martial law but cursed Ace all the same—why should they be grateful for Phoenix protection when they wouldn't have been in this situation if Ace hadn't been born in the first place? It took every ounce of self-control Spade had not to hang everyone in the town square by their thumbs, but she resisted, smiled, established a hefty tax to be collected by local Phoenix pirates stationed in South Blue, loaded up the Wingwoman with all the Indigo Rings she could find, and prepared to set sail, swearing that she would never come to this godforsaken island ever again.

As she prepared to leave with a new Vice Commander, she was approached by a couple in their early fifties, both tanned in the characteristic way of sailors. Both were stocky and the woman with dark hair interspersed with gray streaks stood a few inches over her fair-haired husband. They had with them a young girl with dark eyes and freckles that reminded Spade of Ace.

"We'd like to leave with you," the woman said.

"Does it look like I'm taking applications?" Spade said rudely.

"Please just listen to us. My name is Monaco Sage, formerly Portgas Sage, and this is my husband, Monaco Quanti."

Spade frowned. "You're a Portgas?"

"I was never particularly close to the Portgas family, and after I took my husband's last name, we fell out of touch completely. We were both Marines stationed all over South Blue, up until three years ago."

"Cool." Spade turned to leave.

"Wait, please!"

"Look, if you think being a Portgas is gonna soften my heart or whatever, just know it took everything I had not to burn that antique mansion to the ground with everyone still in it. I don't know what you want but I'm hardly going to let two Marines join my ship."

"We were dismissed disgracefully from the Marines after the First Battle of Marineford when they found our association with the Portgases," Quanti said gravely. "Believe me, we do not have any fond feelings left for our former employers."

"I've heard those words too many times from ex-Marines and quite honestly, I never fully believe them."

"We would not ask you for anything if it weren't for Sophie," Sage insisted. "This is our granddaughter. Her parents were both executed by the Marines for questioning the broadcasts of the First Battle at Marineford. We do not feel safe remaining in Baterilla with her, and only ask that you take us with you. Please. We are happy to swear fealty to you or your captain."

Spade glared at the child, who waved at her happily. "Does it look like I'm running a fucking charity?"

Spade's tone had made Poppy cringe and pull her ears over her eyes. Even Beret was taken aback by Spade's belligerence, but Spade was all out of kind feelings and just desperately wanted to leave the island. The constant reminder of Ace and everything he'd never told her rubbed her raw, but worse was being in Baterilla and catching a glimpse of the hateful atmosphere that Ace had grown up believing was his birthright. It horrified and humiliated her that in her attempts to keep her own secrets, she'd never probed for Ace's, and had consequently never fully understood the man who'd believed so fiercely in Fate and had said on more than one occasion that he was never meant to be alive. It was unnerving to realize that such a significant part of the man she'd believed was the love of her life had been a mystery to her up to this point, and it unearthed questions about their relationship that Spade did not want to address.

"It wouldn't be for free," stated Quanti. "I was a Marine doctor, and Sage was a pharmacist and sous chef. We noticed that these are both occupations you'd benefit from. I'd also give you this."

He retrieved a spiral fruit from the depths of his luggage and offered it to her. "I specialized in Devil's Fruits users back in my time with the Marines, and memorizing their patterns was a hobby of mine. I found this fruit growing in a deep cavern on the eastern side of Baterilla, near the Indigo Ring fields. This is the Gura Gura no Mi, former fruit of Edward Newgate, or Whitebeard."

Spade noticed that he omitted Blackbeard from the conversation and could not decide if she liked the man more or less for his consideration.

"No way," said Spade icily. "If Blackbeard's dead, it's barely been a year. Fruits don't regrow that fast."

"Actually, the average turnover is a year," replied Quanti. "I've checked my sources. This is the fruit that bestows the power of earthquakes upon its user. I will give this to you and the Phoenix Pirates if you accept us."

Spade checked her own sources and disbelievingly confirmed that it was indeed the Gura Gura no Mi. She conferred with Marco, who of course accepted the trio before even hearing about what they offered in return. And so she set sail back to the New World with two ex-Marines and a distant relative of Ace's in tow, as well as the only confirmation she'd ever received of Blackbeard's death. She had fully intended to dump the Monacos off with another division or Phoenix-protected territory more well-equipped to raising a child, but Sophie oddly latched on to Spade like a koala to its favorite tree and Spade soon learned that she was terrible at turning young, orphans with tragic histoires away. They bonded, and Spade warmed up to Sophie's Nan and Dan, whose age and wisdom caused them to treat the rest of the crew a bit like their own children, while maintaining a heavy dose of respect for the crew's hierarchy.

One time, Aokiji visited the Wingwoman itself, sending the Monacos into reels of awe and profuse displays of "Yes, sir" and "No, sir" and slight horror at the way Spade called the former Admiral a "lazy son of a bitch." She introduced Sophie to her old mentor reluctantly, expecting Aokiji to either laugh hysterically at her sentimentality or chastise her for being so stupid as to take a child under her wing when being a commander was still so fresh for her. Kuzan did neither. He played hide-and-seek with Sophie, made her squeal with delight when he created an ice skating rink for her right on the Wingwoman's deck, and watched with a faint smile as she skated around with the twins.

"What?" Spade said, already defensive, when she caught him looking at her with an odd expression on his face.

"I'm proud of you," he said simply.

"What for?"

"You caring for that child."

"I'm not—her grandparents do. I'm just…shipping them around."

"You don't need to pretend that you don't care. I'm proud of you." Aokiji patted her on the head, something that he used to do back when she'd performed well at Marine training. "I have never regretted saving you from that alley, Skye, but seeing you now…once queen of the Underworld, now a division commander for the Phoenix Pirates, but ultimately still kind at your core, I have never been so certain that I made the right choice that day."

That night, Spade went up to the crow's nest alone and cried, overwhelmed with emotion and validation, a leaden weight she'd never noticed finally cast off her shoulders. As she did so, thankful not for the first time for Kuzan and his generosity, reveling in her fortune to find a mentor so kind, the Blue Pheasant fed Monaco Sophie the entire Gura Gura no Mi, and then left promptly before Spade found out.

Spade never cried about the kindness of her mentor ever again.

* * *

"You're kidding," was Law's stunned response when Spade recapped just how Sophie had ingested the Gura Gura no Mi.

"I wish I was." Spade cut her steak, pleased when the meat fell easily to the blade. "It's been a nightmare. Can you imagine, an eight-year-old who can make earthquakes whenever she's angry? I swear Kuzan did it just so he could show me how much of a nightmare I was after I got my powers."

"I always knew he was carefree, but…" Law let out a low whistle, causing some of their fellow restauranteers to glare at him. "That's on another level."

Spade wasn't quite certain how Law had convinced her to have dinner in public with him, much less be convinced to have dinner in a five-star restaurant that required her to put on a dress and curl her hair. (Fine, it wasn't like Law had asked her explicitly to dress up, but Spade knew what was required of her in an upper-class establishment if she did not want to attract attention.) She wore a sleeveless baby blue silk slip dress. Her hair hid most of her back tattoo, and she did not bother concealing her arms or legs. With the right amount of makeup, people assumed she was a Fioran citizen, the latest victim swept up by the glamorous infamy of piracy, as she was sure Law had made his rounds with the Fioran populace.

Law liked what he saw. He said it and showed it, his gray eyes trailing over her visible tattoos: the phoenix in her inner arm, the new, smaller version of her Ace of Spades tattoo on her outer left shoulder, and the subtle spade at her outer wrist declaring the division she belonged to.

Law was dressed up too. Much to Spade's surprise, he showed up to dinner in a pressed white dress shirt with the first two buttons open and black slacks, his goatee trimmed and his hair actually styled with some product. He could easily fit into these kinds of establishments, if it weren't for barest traces of ink peeking from underneath his shirt or his gold earrings, like intentional bursts of rebellion. Spade liked what she saw too.

"How about you?" she said. "Your new team members?"

"Just Ovid," replied Law. "You can meet him tomorrow if you want. The rest of the crew will be glad to see you too."

Spade smiled. "I'd like that. Where'd you find Ovid?"

"At Karakuri Institute." Law drank his wine deeply. "He was a first-year, bored out of his mind in his lectures. Engineering genius. Our propellers had crapped out and he fixed them in less than an hour, then updated our sonar system to be able to respond automatically to any sudden foreign objects. Reduced our crashing incidents by nearly fifty percent and halved the number of people needed on navigational duty."

"Wow," Spade said, impressed.

"Timid as fuck though."

"Well, you're not the nurturing type, as I'm sure you've noticed."

"Yeah, but why join pirates if you can't even speak to one," Law said, finishing his glass and pouring another. "Whatever, we're working on it."

Spade handed Law her glass to refill. "Why were you at Karakuri?"

"Fulfilling Ikkaku's dream," he answered. "Figured I owed it to her. Ended up staying there for almost half a year."

"Really? What for?"

"They have a pretty extensive library. I was doing some Poneglyph research."

"Find anything new?"

Law smirked. "Come now, Spade. I thought we'd try to avoid shop talk until tomorrow."

"We both came to Fiora for a reason. I want those Wano scroll translations and anything else Poneglyph related."

"Yes," Law said slowly. "I assume you also want to see the Poneglyph hidden under the Fioran palace, the ancient artwork of legend that was enough to turn invaders away."

Spade stared at him, and Law snorted.

"Please, you can't seriously believe that I came to Fiora just to meet Panda, just like you came to Fiora just for those Wano scrolls. Our minds work in similar ways, Spade. I'm offended you're even surprised."

"No, I guess I'm not," she sighed. "I should've come sooner, but I got caught up with something else. So you've seen it already? The Poneglyph?"

"Shop talk tomorrow, Miss Spade."

"Come on, Law."

"Fine," he said, "but last thing for tonight. Yes, I've already seen it. The only reason we've been traipsing around Fiora without bothering to hide our identities is because I cured the queen's granddaughter of her muscular dystrophy. As a reward, she granted me access to the Poneglyph and a welcome stay for however long we need."

"Ah, damn," said Spade ruefully. "So you already cured her."

Law arched an eyebrow. "Oh, that was your plan too?"

"Yeah," she sighed, resigned. "I brought a Phoenix feather."

Law's eyes glittered. "That's worth a _fortune_."

"Pointless, now that you've done its job," Spade said wryly. "I'll think of something else. Fine, ending shop talk now. What else did you want to discuss?"

"An endless number of topics. Let's begin with why you didn't tell your crew about me." Law had long finished his meal and was content with watching Spade finish her steak at a painstakingly slow rate. "That mistake could've have proven fatal today."

"That was Beret being an idiot," Spade said thinly.

"She would've never made that mistake if she'd known our history."

"You don't tell your crew everything either," she retorted. "Some things are personal. I did everything I could to make sure our personal history was wiped out from records and didn't see why my crew needed to know about it either. Word spreads, Law. I didn't need us to be each other's weakness. We learned that lesson the hard way two years ago."

Law's eyes had gained a hard edge. "The events of two years ago didn't happen just because of us. There were a plethora of other reasons—our relationship was hardly significant enough that it could shatter the world as we knew it. Even I'm not that conceited."

"I'm usually not either, but I was the queen of the fucking Underworld, so I actually _do_ think my choices were enough to 'shatter the world' or whatever. And I made my choices because of how I felt about you, like it or not."

"Then the issue was how you felt about me, not whether people knew it."

"I can't change how I feel about you. The only thing I can control is whether or not people will exploit that knowledge. You're the last person I thought I'd have to explain this concept to. You're the one who told me that no one accomplished anything when they were in love."

Law stared at her, gaze pensive. She could tell that it wasn't exactly the answer he wanted, but she didn't know what he was looking for in the first place.

"Fine. I get it." Law finished the rest of his wine in one gulp and stood up. "Are you done?"

Spade pushed away her empty plate and got to her feet, unsure of what to expect for the rest of the night. Seeing Law again after two years was not as difficult as she'd anticipated it to be. They picked up where they'd left off, comfortable with each other, and it took a significant bit of self-control not to confess everything on her mind to him. She trusted Law, but then there would be moments where Spade was reminded that people grew a lot over the course of two years, and she couldn't read Law as well as she thought. It made her uneasy.

Law tossed several beli bills on the table and followed Spade out of the restaurant onto the street, which was full of young college and graduate students, tipsy and laughing. A young woman with bright red hair in a tight black dress grabbed Spade's wrist. Spade held back her instincts to break the wrist in half only when she glimpsed the flush of drunken stupor across the stranger's cheeks.

"Hey, babe," the woman smiled. Her freckles were gold and glittered in the street's yellow lamplight. "What's your name?"

"Ah, sorry," said Spade gently. The woman's grip was surprisingly rough. Instead of pulling away, Spade leaned into her and rested her hand on the woman's hip, close to her purse. "You're lovely, but I'm busy tonight."

"Ooh, no, don't be!" she laughed, coming so close her breath brushed over Spade's nose. It smelled like lemon mints. "Let's have some fun. I don't think I've seen you around before…you just come from outta town?"

Law pushed the stranger away firmly, and she staggered briefly into the street before recovering herself and launching herself in Law's face.

"Excuse you!"

Law's hand immediately wrapped around her throat.

"Please send my regards to the queen," said Law, gray eyes glowing like warm coals. "I appreciate her hospitality, but do not need her overbearing spy network hovering over my every action."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!" the woman said, now desperately regretting her aggression. "P-please don't hurt me!"

Law dropped her in the street and watched as she scrambled away as quickly as possible. Spade heaved a sigh.

"You are so rude."

"You let down your guard around women. It's going to kill you one day."

"Don't patronize me," said Spade coolly. She lifted up a thin knife she'd pilfered from the stranger's purse, so thin it was practically a needle, sheathed in a beautiful silver scabbard. On its hilt was the Fioran crest. "She was a royal guard, not a spy. They're not the most subtle."

"You shouldn't take things that aren't yours, Miss Spade."

"I left her a calling card in return." She tucked the knife between her breasts. "If the queen can strike a deal with the Hearts, maybe she'll do the same for Marco. In a way, I'm glad she's spying on you. Shows that she's not a total idiot, letting pirates just wander about her city. Though it's possible that woman was acting on her own accord—I'm sure people don't like pirates in their midst. You make it too easy—it's like you're asking to be attacked."

Law gave a cryptic half-smile. "Perhaps."

Spade frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Maybe I want to be found."

Before she could demand further answers, Law wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her onto the cobblestone street, swept into the turmoil of the night. Sinomet at night contained a dry heat of perfumed spices, but even though Law's touch made her sticky with sweat, she leaned into it.

 _Were you waiting for me to find you_? The question was on the tip of her tongue, but she did not let them fall. She rested her arm around Law's waist, returning the embrace, and it was strange, walking these streets as a unit when they'd traveled on diverging roads for so long, but in the dark of night and cusp of a new era, nothing felt more right.


	29. Whirlwind of Hearts

**Chapter 29** : **Whirlwind of Hearts**

The night was a blur of drinks, conversations, kisses, sex, repeat. After dinner, Law took her to a bar, where the bartender named Nigel did a double-take at the sight of Law and brought them excellent cocktails on the house. While nursing their drinks, they engaged in a verbal spar, each trying to figure out the others' activities for the last two years without treading into the dangerous territory of work. It was a fun game, a linguistic Truth-or-Dare, and it reminded Spade of how clever Law was and consequently why she'd had such trouble trusting him in the first place.

They spoke of bizarre new islands they'd come across, each trying to one-up the next. ("Have you been to Bivenia? They have cats who burp up silver pieces instead of furballs." "Alided has trees that talk." "That's hardly interesting, haven't you been to Sweet Mom's territory? All their trees talk and shit cotton candy." "No, but each individual branch of a tree is a conscious being so you end up with schizophrenic trees. When they grow a new branch, the preexisting branches vote whether to amputate the new branch before it fully forms." "Oh, how democratic. Does it work?" "Of course not. Democracies are futile.")

Somewhere between the fourth and fifth drink, when Spade's mind was in a pleasant fuzzy haze and she was laughing like she was a groupie in front of her idol celebrity, Spade leaned over and kissed Law. He was talking about something nerdy like the chemical composition of Kairouseki and its theoretical interaction with Devil's Fruits, and Spade was only half-listening. It was hard to tell if Law was drunk or just nervous because he was speaking faster than normal, but she didn't know what the nerves would be for. _Is this how he picks up everyone he sleeps with? He's such a dork. He's drunk and all he can talk about is science_. He was mid-sentence ("So if Pyrobloin can be injected into clouds to make sky islands, then it must be its bonding properties with water molecules in the cell that—") when Spade thought, _God, I really fucking missed him_ , and then kissed him promptly.

She remembered the taste of martinis and cigarettes, then Law's lips met hers hungrily and he pulled her so that she was nearly sitting on him, all sexy science teacher seduction tactics gone. Here, Spade's memory began to fade from concrete events to flashbacks interspersed with colorful emotions. She remembered making out in public like teenagers and not caring, then being kicked out of the bar for indecency when Law began to pull her dress a bit too far up. Law Roomed them to his room, on the highest floor of the hotel the bar was located in, and the privacy unleashed whatever self-restraint they had left. She remembered the scratch of Law's goatee against her cheek, his teeth marking the skin at her neck, before Law sank to his knees and pulled her underwear down to her ankles. He hiked her dress over her hips and then Law's face was buried between her thighs as he made her see heaven and beyond, but of course not before the snide comment of, "You should be so grateful to have the future Pirate King on his knees giving you head." She could barely recall her dress coming off, too dazed from the orgasm and alcohol together, but Law did murmur something at the sight of the Phoenix Jolly Roger on her back. She remembered gripping the silk sheets underneath her as Law fucked her from behind, his mouth biting her neck, his touch scorching and invasive and consuming. She remembered his body on top of hers, his tongue in her mouth, as her arms wrapped around his body and they reached an intense rhythm and climbed to paradise together before falling through its abyss.

Spade didn't know what time it was when sobriety finally began to settle back in her mind, and her body ached with satiation. She was covered in sweat that she wiped off with the sheets. She turned to Law, whose eyes were closed as he recovered his breath, and cleaned him up too before throwing the sheets off the bed.

"Two fucking years," he said, eyes finally opening. The product in hair made it stick determinedly up in the direction that Spade had run her hand through, leaving Law with the impression of a deeply satisfied broccoli.

Spade stretched out her limbs, relishing a weightlessness that she had missed dearly. "Long time to go without a proper lay."

"Really?" Law's lips curled. "No one?"

"Don't look so pleased with yourself."

"I'm not," he lied. He turned to his side so they spoke face-to-face. "Not even Marco?"

"My captain now," she answered shortly. "Off limits." She did not add that Marco preferred to sleep with a certain, sultry historian to whom he often delivered translation work in person, even though he was the fucking Captain of the Phoenix Pirates, not a messenger boy.

"Sure." Law's index finger traced a tattoo right over her left breast, where her heart beat against her ribcage: a solid black spade, overlayed with a heart with familiar wings spiraling out of its borders. It didn't take a genius to know what the heart tattoo was inspired by, not when Law's chest blared a much larger version of it.

He placed his lips to the tattoo, causing Spade to let out a little breath of surprise. Law lied back on his arm without any indication of wanting anything more.

"I always did want my sign on you somewhere," he said.

"Don't gloat," she said.

"I'm not," he said again. "It looks good though."

He ran a hand through her hair, and it made Spade pause. Something about Law just felt off. She knew they were happy to see each other, but the way Law had acted since his time in Fiora—deliberately declaring his location, enough that every Fioran citizen knew who he was and where he stayed—was incredibly unlike him. Even their publicity tonight, eating at a fine restaurant, making out in a bar…nothing about Law was subtle, but their actions tonight were too casual, bordering rash.

"Is something wrong?" asked Spade suddenly.

He fingered a strand of her hair. "Of course not. Dinner was supreme, we got free drinks, and had great, if not long overdue, sex. What would make you think something was wrong?"

"Not tonight. Just something in general." Sinomet's residentials were built in a way that allowed air currents to naturally cool the rooms. The door to the balcony was left wide open, and the thin cotton curtains billowed with the incoming wind. "It's not like you to be this blatant."

"About?"

"Everything. Being here with your crew…staying here for as long as you have. Even tonight. It was practically a date. Pirates don't do dates." Spade rested her head against Law's outstretched arm. "It's like you're asking someone to find you and fight you."

Law's fingers ghosted her bare skin, and it made her shiver more than the night breezes did. He met her gaze in a way that wasn't avoidant but also wasn't fully honest. Knowing someone well was a privilege, but knowing Law took significant effort and, more than others, depended on how much he was willing to give rather than how much she was willing to learn.

"I've been stalling," he said quietly.

She did not answer, feeling that Law wanted to express something that he'd longed to get off his chest for quite some time now. Outside, a Fioran nightbird began a lullaby in a peppy, major key that Spade found rather annoying. She wondered briefly if it was worth going outside to shoot it, but figured it would ruin the mood.

Law finally resumed speaking. "I think I could have found my way to Raftel without the Oharan Poneglyph. There are only so many pieces of the puzzle that you need before you can fill in the blanks on your own."

His words resonated more than they should have. Part of her wondered if Law could read her mind—did he know what she was hiding? Long had Spade guessed who was necessary to operate the National Weapon the World Government had hidden away for centuries; she did not need Poppy to translate the scroll she'd stolen from Mariejois to surmise its contents.

Spade looked at him curiously. "You have them all translated already? How'd you get Robin to do that for you?"

Law returned her gaze pensively, his lips set in a straight line as he waited for her to come to the conclusion on her own. It came slower than it should have, but when she realized it, she cursed that it hadn't occurred to her sooner.

"You can read them," she said, disbelieving.

Law nodded. "After I found the Wano scrolls, I looked for existing translations in the Underworld to see if I could learn on my own. But good translations were scarce, and it wasn't until I got to Karakuri that I got enough material to really learn the language well. Turns out Roger learned that way, too. At first, I learned it because I just needed to decipher the Poneglyphs, but now…I think it's a fitting skill for the future Pirate King to have. When I find what happened in the Void Century, I want to read it for myself, not have it translated for me."

Spade smiled at him faintly. "That's good. To really understand a history that's written in an ancient language…knowing the language is what a real king would do. That's noble."

"I'm not trying to be."

"I know." She scooted closer to him, enough that she could feel the heat roaring from his skin. "So why are you stalling?"

He exhaled and shifted so he was lying on his back and his gaze was toward the ceiling. "I don't know. At least, that's what I've been telling myself since I got here. It's just a gut feeling, and I know to trust my gut."

"But?"

"I know it's ending," said Law softly. If she listened closely, she thought his voice shook, but it wasn't because he was frightened or nervous or unsure. She couldn't pinpoint what emotion underlied that tremor. "I'm so fucking close. This is it, isn't it? Everything that my fucked up life has culminated to, from escaping Flevance under corpses to all the shit of the Donquixote crew, to Corazon dying for me…fifteen years of sailing, and this is it, isn't it? Becoming a pirate, hating the World Government, wanting to destroy Doflamingo…none of those were my choice. They happened because I was too powerless to have the option of another road. Becoming the Pirate King is the only thing that I have wanted for myself—the only thing that I _chose_ to want. The only thing that I had the luxury of choice for. But I can't just bring myself to grab it."

She could identify it now. Law's voice shook with the intensity of a man desperately reining in his fury for the injustice of his journey. It was not like him to dwell on how unfair Life with a capital L was; there were too many tragedies across the four seas for Law to consider himself the least fortunate, and what was the point of wallowing in self-pity anyway? Law had never been the type to linger in his trauma. It was always forward and ahead with him, because if time could only move toward the future, then what could be gained from being mired in the past?

Yet, when his future was a hair's breadth away from his fingertips, Law stood frozen in the vicegrip of those torn away from him too early, trapped amidst the ghosts he'd never laid properly to rest. Revenge emerged like a corpse reanimated by Gekko Moriah, grinning wildly as it barred the path forward.

And now, Spade finally understood why Law had behaved the way he had since arriving in Fiora, his crew's presence blaring like a red flare.

He had been waiting for someone to find him, but that person wasn't her.

It was like someone had found exactly where her soul was located in her body and seared it with a glowing fire iron. She sat up abruptly and searched the ground for her clothes, feeling raw for a reason she couldn't explain.

Law grabbed her by the wrist, gray eyes flashing in danger. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving."

"What the fuck. I was telling you something serious—"

"You're waiting for Doflamingo," she cut in, voice armed with knives. "You want to settle your score before you become Pirate King. I don't have time for this shit, Law. I'm trying to dismantle the Marines, overthrow the World Government, and end slavery while I'm at it. We've been over Doflamingo a thousand fucking times and if you don't get how much of a distraction that bastard is by now, then I can't help you."

"I wasn't waiting for him."

She laughed and it rang hollow. "Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't want him to find you while you were dicking around here. You could've been the fucking Pirate King by now. Instead, you've been sitting on your ass because you've never been able to let him go—"

Law interrupted her. "What if I'm not meant to be the Pirate King?"

She stared at him, so taken aback by this sudden confession that it took her nearly a full minute to find her tongue again. Law's conviction to be Pirate King was a truth that never wavered for him, rooted in his bizarre, ironic belief in Fate and Destiny and his true name Water D. that he'd shared with her only fairly recently.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Law leaned against the headboard and pulled listlessly at the sheets. "I mean, what if I get to Raftel and for some reason, the Pirate King isn't supposed to be me? This isn't about Doflamingo. It's about me, the one choice that I've made for myself in my life, only for it to turn out that it didn't matter. I'm not the one who's meant to find One Piece. I'm just an ally, the plot device that carries the main storyline forward. What if the one choice—the _only choice_ I've ever made for myself, one that wasn't born out of shitty circumstances or forced by a power greater than me, what if it's a mistake? What if…"

Law trailed off and cleared his throat. It was clear that what he was about to say was a fear that he'd harbored since he was that thirteen-year-old boy who'd sailed out into North Blue and beyond, alone and alive by sheer luck or misfortune, take your pick. It was a fear he'd buried beneath layers of callousness and apathy, smirks that didn't reach his eyes and bravado necessary of all pirates who could not confront their tragedies.

"What if the faith my crew has in me, the faith that Ikkaku and Uni died for…what if it's all built on a lie?"

Spade sat back down on the mattress and reached for him. She cradled his cheeks in both of her palms and straddled his hips so she could lean her forehead against his. Law looked at her and he was _naked_ —not just physically, but soul bared, the most readable she'd ever found him since knowing him. Law was always introspective, but this was too much, self-examination to the point of rocking the very foundation of his entire purpose.

"That's actually the stupidest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth, and you say a lot of stupid shit," she said quietly.

"This isn't—"

"Listen to me very carefully," Spade said, words coming swiftly enough that she could not dwell on whether they were wise. "I hate talking about Ace with you because he's a part of me you'll never get, but you should know that he never wanted to be Pirate King. Even when he was captain of his own ship, before he swore loyalty to Whitebeard, he just wanted to roam the seas, explore, conquer as he saw fit. But he didn't want the One Piece or the title of Pirate King, and later on, all he wanted was to put Whitebeard on that throne. Turns out that Whitebeard had raised Ace all along to inherit the throne of his father, whether Ace wanted it or not."

"I loved Ace, but even now that he's dead, he never deserved that throne," she continued. "He didn't want it. He didn't fight for it with every fiber of his being because wanting One Piece was never a choice he had. And honestly, I think I loved him for that. One Piece has never been a goal in my mind. It was why I couldn't swear fealty to Whitebeard, or Luffy, or even to you. If Marco told me now that his goal was to become the Pirate King, I'd leave. But it doesn't mean that I don't believe in the One Piece, and it doesn't mean I don't believe that someone deserves to be Pirate King. Because I do. I didn't believe that man was Ace. I believe that man is you."

Law's breath hitched. She had never voiced this affirmation aloud. She was not supposed to take sides. The race to One Piece was one she had no stakes in, for she loved multiple contenders and whatever the prize at the end of the tunnel was, she was happy for whoever seized it as long as they did not abuse it.

"You know I don't believe in Fate. Fuck all that. This is your choice, you made it, and if some oracle at the edge of Raftel tells you you're not the Pirate King, fuck them because you made it there first. You fought harder than anyone else I know for it. You've gone through some really messed up shit in your life." She leaned against him and felt his heart beat rapidly, his breath mingle with hers, and she brushed her lips against his. "You've climbed out the pits of Hell, alive and loved. Never doubt that it is good that you are loved. Whatever this journey has been for you, it's not a mistake. Whatever the ending is, your crew will never believe that their faith in you is a lie, because it is the only truth to them that matters."

Something in Law's eyes flashed. It bordered a frenzy, a fervor that almost frightened her, but she caught a clarity in his expression that smoothed back into his mask of confidence and conviction. This was the man who was going to become Pirate King, and he kissed her like their world was ending, but a new one was on the horizon, built on nothing but the solid weight of dreams.

* * *

"Have you seen the commander?"

Beret shook her head as she munched on a scone. Her crimson lipstick didn't budge. "Nah, she didn't come back last night."

"She's okay, isn't she?" said Poppy anxiously. "You don't think Trafalgar did anything to her?"

Beret smirked. "Actually, I think Trafalgar did a lot of things to her. I hope so, at least."

"I don't have time for your innuendoes right now." Poppy waved a stack of papers; her hands were shaking from lack of sleep and excess caffeine. "I need to talk to her."

"Then call her Mushi, she probably has it on her."

"Fine," said Poppy irritably. She dialed the number and waited for it to ring.

Spade picked up on the fourth ring.

"What."

The syllable came out strained, a rubber-band stretched to maximum tension that was ready to snap at any moment.

"Commander," said Poppy, concerned, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," was the response, the tone no better. "Is something wrong…shit, fuck you, Law." The words came feebly and ended more like a moan than a curse, and Poppy could hear a deeper voice chuckle darkly in the background.

The Mink understood what was happening, probably belatedly, because Beret was already laughing up a mouth full of chocolate flour.

"You know what, I'll call you back," Poppy said, flushing, "when you're…less busy…"

She hung up promptly and glared at Beret, who was now coughing because she'd inhaled flour the wrong way.

"Serves you right," sniffed Poppy.

"No, serves _you_ right." The Vice Commander scooted the baby Mushi back to its rightful place on Poppy's desk. "C'mon, Commander hasn't had a partner since I've known her, and now she suddenly bumps into the guy she gave up Hurricane for? Give them some space to bone."

"B-b-bone, I mean, I don't want to interrupt them but this is important!" Poppy despaired. "She asked me to do some translation work and I've done what I can. There's some words I can't figure out but overall it's a big fucking deal!"

Beret shrugged, disinterested. "Big enough that you're gonna cockblock the commander?"

The door to Poppy's quarters suddenly opened, and in waltzed ex-Admiral Aokiji, who was so large he had to duck under the doorframe to enter.

"Who're you cockblocking?" he said with unfeigned interest.

"Holy fucking carrots!" Poppy threw all her papers into a decrepit corner of the room, out of sight. "Sir!"

"Please don't call me that," said Aokiji with a roll of his eyes. "The only person I wish would still call me that is Skye, but only because it'd take me back to a time where she actually respected me."

"Yeah," said Beret, unimpressed. She had finished her scone and was now starting on a bagel lathered in orange blossom cream cheese. "Hard for me to believe that she ever respected you."

Beret had never liked Aokiji for some reason that Poppy didn't understand, because she quite liked the ex-Admiral. She found him funny.

Aokiji didn't look offended. "Hello to you too, Miss Beret."

"Were you supposed to follow her here?" Beret said suspiciously.

"Of course. She travels faster than me, but considering that I made it here only a day after her, I'd say I made good time."

"Were you both in Mariejois, sir?" asked Poppy, eyes shining.

"Yes, we were. It was a terrible time. Can you believe I raised that woman? She can really say the meanest things. I got a haircut and rather liked it, and you know what she called me? An _asparagus_."

Poppy, who had been called much meaner things by racists who hated Minks and fishmen, decided not to comment that being called an asparagus was practically a compliment.

"You said you finished what you could of the translations?" Aokiji asked her. Poppy nodded. "Good, let me take a look at them."

Poppy glanced at Beret, who shook her head. "Nope, we didn't get any orders to give them to you. In fact, I don't even know if you're allowed to be here. Commander didn't tell us you were coming."

"I earned those translations as much as your commander did," Aokiji said pointedly.

"No proof."

"You can call her and ask."

"No," Poppy said quickly. "Don't."

Aokiji arched a bushy eyebrow. "Why? Where is she?"

"She's busy…"

"With?"

Before Poppy could respond, Nan's voice called from the deck.

"Poppers! There's a…polar bear here! Wants to speak to you!"

"A polar bear?" Aokiji repeated, confused. "What the fuck is a polar bear doing…ah. The cock-blocking. You mean to tell me she's preoccupied with the Surgeon of Death? Is this what she does, completes a mission and goes to find him for a quickie? Trafalgar Law should be more focused on his goals. God knows what happened when they got distracted with each other last time."

"She doesn't do that," snapped Beret. "This is the first time we've heard about him."

"Well, I hope this is a quick pit-stop. I'd like to move along, now that we have the final bit of the National Weapon. Miss Poppy, those translations please."

"Don't give them to him," said Beret. She was not being petty; she had her vice-commander voice on, and Poppy obeyed her.

"I'm sorry, sir. We should wait until Commander gets back to go over it."

"Poppy!" Nan called again. "The bear! What do I do with a bear! Is he an enemy? Do I skin him and cook him?"

"N-No!" said Bepo's voice meekly. "I just wanted to talk t-to Miss Poppy."

Poppy leaned over and opened her door, where Bepo was standing quietly outside. On the lower deck were two men dressed in boiler suits; one of them was the one that Beret had abducted the day before. They flashed thumbs up in Bepo's direction.

"Can I help you?" she asked. "Your captain's with our commander right now, so if you're looking for them—"

"N-No, I was looking for you!" Bepo stared at his paws. "I, um…brought you flowers."

He thrust forward a bouquet of lavender blooms interspersed with sprigs of mint. The ensemble both aesthetically and aromatically did not meld, but it was obvious Bepo had picked the bouquet himself.

Poppy's nose twitched. Surprisingly, she didn't find the smell of minty lavender offensive.

"Thanks?" She stared at the bouquet in his outstretched paw and did not move to take it from him. "What for?"

"Fiora is too heavily scented because of all the mangroves, so I thought you'd like some mint to help clear your sinuses! Plus Captain told me lavender helps you relax, so I thought you'd like that too."

"Thanks," Poppy said again. "But I mean…why?"

"Because I think you're smart and pretty," blurted out Bepo.

"Aw, he thinks you're smart and pretty, Poppy." It was hard to tell if Beret was being sarcastic or not.

"Yes, but—"

"As much as I love interspecies love," interrupted Aokiji, "I'm on a bit of a schedule. So why don't you guys take this courtship outside, and I'll let Spade know later that I picked up the translations…"

The entire room was immediately covered in a fluid, moving glacier that ushered everyone except for Kuzan out the door. Before Poppy could retaliate, the door to her quarters slammed right in her face, sealed over immediately by a thick layer of ice.

"Hey!" Poppy said indignantly. "That's my room! You can't just go snooping around in there, Commander hasn't given you permission! Sir!"

"Wait…" The other Hearts members had crept up behind them. The one with PENGUIN on his cap frowned. "Was that Aokiji?"

"Oh!" Bepo exclaimed. "Yeah, it was! I didn't even notice!"

"How did you not notice?" Penguin cuffed him over the head, which was difficult given that Bepo was over a foot taller them him. "You were staring right at his face!"

"I was too struck by Miss Poppy's beauty—"

"Holy shit, Kuzan's here!" Shachi pulled out his Den-Den Mushi. "We gotta tell Captain!"

Poppy pulled at her ears anxiously. "Wait, I wouldn't do that if I were you—"

The snail rang, and Law answered on the third ring.

"Cap—"

"If someone isn't holding a gun to your fucking head right now, I'm going to cut off your balls and feed them to you."

Shachi glanced between his crewmates, terrified.

"Nope, it's nothing, sorry, bye!"

He hung up. Poppy pulled her ears over her eyes. Bepo proferred his bouquet.

"Do you want to get dinner?"

* * *

Spade returned to the Wingwoman in the afternoon, after a brief meeting with the Fioran royal ambassador to schedule an appointment with the queen. She'd had a late start to the day, thanks to Law, and had a host of missed messages from her crewmates that she listened to on her way back. Aokiji had followed her to Fiora, intent on getting his fair share of the rewards from Mariejois. She had been careful to ditch Aokiji as best as she could and was peeved to hear that he could track her so closely. Part of her wondered if Aokiji had made a Vivre card of her without her knowledge; he'd been getting much faster at following her movements.

When she arrived in her own quarters, Aokiji was sitting at her desk, grim and serious. Poppy and Beret followed behind her, nervous that they'd allowed Aokiji onboard without much of a fight, but Spade couldn't blame them. No one on her crew could beat Aokiji even if he were blind and deaf. It would've been a waste of effort.

Aokiji threw the clipped papers at her. She caught them and rifled through them, glancing over Poppy's careful handwriting in the margins, her eyes attracted to the words she'd expected to find. _Ope-Ope no Mi. Perennial Youth Operation. Master of Devil's Fruits_. They settled in her bones, a truth she'd always known but could only now confirm.

Spade set the stack of papers down. Aokiji was silently seething, his eyes flashing in uncharacteristic fury, and she knew she should be scared. Aokiji was rarely angry, but when he was, you never knew what to expect.

"Beret, take everyone off the ship and go have fun in Sinomet," Spade said calmly. "Tell Nan and Dan I established contact with a royal guard last night, and to go to the palace for an appointment with the queen. Be on the lookout for Marines. The Heart Pirates have been here too long for Headquarters not to be close by."

"Aye," said the Vice Commander.

"Commander, should I stay?" Poppy said anxiously.

"No." Spade sat down on her bed, across from Aokiji. "I'll debrief you later."

Her crewmates left and closed the door behind them. Spade waited several minutes, ensuring that the ship had been vacated, before speaking.

"You're angry."

"You knew about this," Aokiji said, no trace of typical jokester in his face. "I don't know how, but you knew that the final piece to operating the weapon was Trafalgar Law."

Spade nodded. "I had a hunch."

"You just wasted months of precious time for information you could have told me all along. I don't know what you and Law are planning but—"

"Law doesn't know about this," Spade said sharply, "and I have no intention of telling him."

"How could he not know? Isn't he your source?"

"No." Spade folded a corner of the front page. "My source was Doflamingo."

Aokiji was stricken. "How the hell—"

"Doflamingo mentioned it when he held me captive. He talked a lot about Law, why he chose Law and raised him, and why he couldn't let Law go…a whole bunch of nonsense." She continued folding the paper down, finding the repetition soothing. The mere thought of Doflamingo stressed her to her limits. She did not talk about him with anyone other than Law. She took a deep breath. "He told me that his power among the World Nobles didn't stem from him being a Tenryuubito, but instead from his knowledge about the National Weapon. A fruit that confers all Devil's Fruit abilities to the user. But obviously, people can't ingest more than one Fruit without dying, so it was a moot point. Except for the beneficiary of the Ope-Ope no Mi's Perennial Youth Operation."

"What is that?"

"It's a one-time operation. The recipient gains eternal youthful immortality at the price of the Ope-Ope no Mi user's life. So obviously, if you're immortal and ingest the National Weapon…"

"You're invincible," Aokiji said, understanding.

"Right. Law knows about that operation. He said Doflamingo intended for his brother to ingest the Ope-Ope no Mi and grant him eternal life."

"So Law _does_ know about this."

"Not exactly. He was my confirmation. Back in Dressrosa, when Doflamingo was about to kill Law, Doflamingo told him about the National Weapon as well—that's why I was sure it existed. Law's probably guessed that he has something to do with it, but he doesn't know what the Weapon is, or what exactly his role to operating it is."

Aokiji nodded. "He doesn't know he has to die in order for someone else to wield it."

"Yeah," exhaled Spade.

Aokiji looked slightly less furious as he digested this information. Instead, he peered at her thoughtfully, if not slightly sympathetically.

"So if you knew this, then why pursue it? You've wasted your time finding a weapon you refuse to use."

"I'm not refusing to use it," she responded. "I'm merely rejecting this method of attaining it. There must be other ways to use the Weapon. We just have to figure out how."

"These scrolls are older than the World Government itself, Skye. If it says that this is how the Weapon is obtained, then I don't see what other alternative we have.

"Blackbeard was able to eat two Devil's Fruits and survive," Spade retorted. "So were his crewmates. There's a way. There must be a way."

"Careful," murmured Aokiji. "You're losing sight of your purpose again."

"I am not— _do not_ gaslight me," she said angrily. "I have been careful and attentive to this goal for the last two years, Aokiji. Do _not_ suggest that somehow my feelings for Law are clouding my judgment. I have been pursuing this Weapon since I left Wano and I intend with every remaining breath to make sure Marco the Phoenix has it in his arsenal. That goal is not mutually exclusive from my rejection that somehow all of Law's shitty life has culminated into him being a sacrificial lamb for someone else. He deserves so much more than that."

Aokiji just looked at her pensively, and she knew he was not convinced. Her mentor was not a cold, callous person, but he was objective—much more objective than she. He fought for his own brand of justice and could be a good Samaritan when he felt like it, but what Spade tended to forget about Aokiji was his calculative side. Sacrifices to eliminate bigger threats were not out of the question for him. The execution of Portgas D. Ace, for example, was something Aokiji had never expressed remorse for.

She knew what he was thinking. When it came to overthrowing the World Government, ripping out an eight-hundred year-old institution from its roots and establishing a new world order, who was Trafalgar Law in the grand scheme of things? Who were any of them?

"You only helped with my mission so you could run away with the scroll, hoping I'd never find out the truth," Aokiji said finally.

"I wasn't that naïve to think it'd work," Spade said, "but I tried."

"Skye," he sighed, "you need to tell Law."

"No."

"This is his choice. No one is making him perform the operation, but you do understand that he has the power to choose who can wield this weapon? He can choose who will be the strongest person in the world, the ruler of the universe, the—"

"The King?" said Spade icily. "Right, he can choose everyone _except for himself_. So what, Law just forgoes his dream of being the Pirate King?"

"This isn't just the mater of being some silly Pirate King—this is the ruler of the entire world!"

"And it won't be him! It can't be him if we do it this way! And look, if there's going to be a ruler of the entire fucking world, I don't even think it should be Law! I don't even think he wants it. But the moment he hears about this—"

Spade's sentence ground to a halt. No, this was not her information to give. Law already had doubts about his right to being Pirate King; he did not need to know that some eight-hundred year-old scroll said that his purpose in life was to be a scapegoat.

"Just please don't tell him," she whispered.

Aokiji looked at her levelly. "You are making the same mistake you made two years ago, when you gave up Hurricane for a man you prioritized over your purpose."

"It wasn't a mistake."

Aokiji stood up, his head bumping into the ceiling as he did. "I made a copy of the translations. I'm giving them to Dragon. I can't promise that the Revolutionaries won't come after Law and tell him."

"He'll be on his way to Raftel by then."

"This is Law's decision to make, Skye. Not yours."

"It is mine. This is the information I found, and my team that's translated it. I don't owe it to him."

Aokiji shook his head, disapproving, and pushed the the door open. He straightened up once he was outside and looked out into the horizon, thinking. Spade felt like a petulant child, asking an adult for something she knew was wrong.

"Please don't tell him, Aokiji."

He sighed. "He won't hear it from me. But destiny always has the uncanny way of coming true, and when Law discovers this was his Fate all along…you will regret keeping this from him. He can't make a true decision without knowing all of his choices."

"When he's Pirate King, he can blame me all he wants."

Aokiji looked at her, appraising. "You know…"

She frowned. "What?"

"At another time, or in another life, you two would've been cute. He's a dick, but I would've approved. But now…" Aokiji shook his head again. "It's a dangerous thing to be in love when you're trying to upend the world, Skye. You're making the wrong choice. I only hope the consequences don't kill the both of you."

He leapt from the upper deck, agile as an antelope, straight into the sea that froze over the moment his feet touched the surface. Spade walked out onto the deck to say goodbye.

"Send Marco my regards," Aokiji said.

"He won't want them."

"Send them anyway. Our next steps may take diverging paths, but I'll be in touch, Skye." He waved. "In the meantime, be safe."

She waved and watched as Aokiji's profile grew smaller in the distance. The sun shone brightly and a weak zephyr blew, doing little to alleviate the heat or the sinking feeling in her stomach, a stone dropped into a bottomless pool, waiting for an end but granted no relief.

* * *

Spade came by the Polar Tang later in the evening while Law was in the middle of teaching Ovid basic swordsmanship. The teenager was so startled by Spade's sudden appearance that he'd flat-out dropped his katana in the middle of a parry, and it was only because they were fighting in Law's Room that Ovid survived the decapitation.

"Focus," snapped Law when he reattached Ovid's head. "You can't just shit your pants every time something unexpected happens—I literally cut off your head in that split second."

"I'm sorry, Captain!" Ovid stammered, bowing slightly. "I will never lose focus again!"

"That seems like an unachievable commitment," said Spade, green eyes alight in amusement.

Ovid flushed in embarrassment. "I m-meant I-I w-won't lose f-focus next time!"

"I know, I was just kidding," Spade said, somewhat taken aback by the degree to which Ovid was stammering. "It's okay, you're still learning."

"Y-yes ma'am!"

Spade stared at him. "Please don't ever call me that again."

"I-I-I'm so s-sorry!"

"Breathe, Ovid," sighed Law. "There's nothing be scared of. This is Skye Spade, Second Division Commander of the Phoenix Pirates."

"Yes!" Ovid straightened up in a salute. "Hello, m-my name is Ovid!"

"Hi." Spade extended a hand, evidently trying not to laugh. "Nice to meet you."

Ovid shook it without making eye contact. "T-the h-honor is mine."

"Do a hundred reps of over-the-head swings," Law ordered, gesturing to the opposite side of the deck. Ovid scuttled away eagerly, leaving the two of them alone. "You came at a bad time. The others just went out to get dinner."

"I ran into them earlier. Did you tell Bepo to court Poppy?"

"What?" said Law, bewildered.

"He showed up and gave her this bouquet," grinned Spade, "and asked her to dinner. Poppy said no, but it was still really cute."

Law frowned. "Why did she say no? You can't do better than Bepo."

Spade shrugged. "She likes pandas, said something about Polar Minks being too fishy. She doesn't like fish."

"That seems low-key discriminatory."

"I respect my navigator's right to choose, all right? Though I do find Bepo wonderful and if something works out between them, I won't complain."

Law nodded. "Shachi told me Aokiji was aboard your ship."

The amusement disappeared from her expression. "He left."

"Why was he here?"

"We…" Spade hesitated. "We were working on something together. He needed the results. Don't worry about it."

Spade was being withholding, which made Law worry about it. He did not press her for more, however, and instead Roomed them both to his quarters.

"God, warn me when you're about to transport me," said Spade irritably, balancing herself against his desk.

"Figured you'd want to be out of sight."

"Yeah." She looked around the room, body relaxing as she sat down on the desk. "Not much has changed around here."

"I'm not one to decorate."

"I know. I brought you something though." She reached into the folds of her cloak and withdrew a stack of papers. "Here."

Law sat down in his desk chair and rifled through the papers. "This is…the Oharan Poneglyph."

"Yeah. Translated by Robin, actually, so you know it's accurate."

Law looked at her sharply. "You work with the Strawhats a lot?"

"It was a trade," she answered. "We all realized belatedly that we were missing a Poneglyph from Ohara. Robin said if I found it, she'd translate it for me and also give us all their existing translations. It was a great deal, so I took it."

"You found Ohara?" Law said, amazed. "You went all the way back out to West Blue?"

"As you can tell, I'm not with my crew a whole lot," said Spade wryly. "I did about a half-year stretch of solo flying and sailing all around the Four Blues."

"What in the world for?"

Spade let out a breath and swung around so that her legs hung off the desk in front of Law. She took the stack of papers away from him and set it next to her.

"After I went to Ohara," she said carefully, "I had this theory that there was a link between the islands that the World Government had committed mass genocides of. The Oharan scholars were studying the Void Century, there was another island of researchers around seventy years ago in North Blue that specialized in biochemical engineering that got wiped out for making chemical weapons, stuff like that. It seemed too intentional to me, so I thought I'd visit them to see if I could find a connection. It didn't pan out, obviously. The islands were too spread apart for me to feasibly reach their general location, and tons of them were Logless so I was flying blind most of the time. Marco told me to give up at the half-year mark."

Spade looked so uncomfortable that Law knew intrinsically where the conversation was headed before she spoke it aloud.

"When I was in North Blue, I went to Flevance."

She halted right after the name of the island, a visible effort to discontinue. Her anxiety was palpable, but Law wasn't sure why. Did she expect him to be angry? He was, but the cognitive side of him couldn't explain why.

 _It's your home_. _That was your family. She didn't need to snoop around when she didn't understand anything about Flevance._

"And?" said Law tonelessly.

Spade reached into her pocket and wordlessly handed over a weathered photograph. Law glanced at it and recognized it instantly. It was a family portrait, the one they'd had framed over their fireplace. In it, Law was eight and Lamie was six. She was smiling extra hard, as if trying to compensate for Law's surliness. His mother, tall and willowy with soft features, rested a hand on both of her children's shoulders, while Law's father, slightly shorter with a receding hairline but a magnificent beard, beamed at the camera.

"How…" He cleared his throat. "How did you find this?"

"No one's been there since the massacre," said Spade softly. "North Blue has been getting colder each year, and the weather has preserved the island miraculously well. There were bodies—never mind. It wasn't hard to find your house. Most of it had been burned, but I found this in the rubble. I thought…you'd want it."

Law's hands were shaking, but he could not tear his eyes away from the photograph. Out of his family, he was the only survivor. Out of the entire fucking island, he was the only one who'd lived. And he was about to become the Pirate King.

Was the life of the entire island worth his achieving his destiny?

If Amber Lead hadn't killed them all, Law would have never left Flevance. He'd have lived happily with his parents, studied medicine, become a genius doctor known throughout North Blue. He'd have settled down with someone, maybe his elementary school sweetheart or some mysterious stranger passing through, and they'd start a family. Lamie would grow up to be the vivacious heartthrob of the island, a literature professor or some salacious novelist. His parents would've grown old, retired, lived out the rest of their lives in the bliss of their children's success. He would have never joined the Donquixote crew. He would have never met Corazon, and Corazon wouldn't have died for him, and Dressrosa wouldn't have fallen into Doflamingo's hands. Law would have never met Bepo, Shachi, Penguin. He would have never started his own crew, sailed the four seas, found a new family—because why would he? Who dreamed of a new family when the one he'd had was so good, so loving, so safe?

"It was awful," Spade whispered. Her hand found his and grasped him tightly. "What they did. It was…I'm so sorry."

He held her back and placed the photograph on top of the Oharan Poneglyph translations. Spade's eyes were wet.

"Don't be stupid," he muttered. "There's nothing to be sorry for. Thanks for giving it to me."

Law stood up and kissed her. She returned it carefully, but when Law moved to unwrap her cloak and unbutton her pants, she stopped him.

"We shouldn't," she murmured against his lips.

"Too sore from this morning?" he guessed. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle."

"You dick," she hissed, but looked relieved that he was in the mood to joke. "Is this how you deflect from everything emotional?"

"You are no better, I promise you."

"True," she conceded. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and met his gaze levelly. "I should've told you about going to Flevance sooner. I'm sorry. I didn't know how you'd react."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," he said again, this time thinly. "What's past is past."

"Law—"

"We don't have to rehash my tragic history," he snapped. "I've had almost twenty years to do that on my own. What do you want me to do, cry?"

Spade's eyes flashed, and she pursed her lips like she wanted to say something cruel and knew better than to voice it aloud.

"Fine. We don't have to talk about it."

Law uttered a curse and leaned his forehead against hers.

"What do you want me to say?" he said, all of a sudden world-weary. "I'm sad my entire family died?"

"Sure," she said offhandedly. "If that's how you feel."

"It's not." Law swallowed down the acidity slowly ascending his esophagus. "That's the worst part. Sure, I'm sad, and I will never forgive the World Government for what they did. But I've had twenty years to ask why it happened and I will never get an answer better than what I already know. My life…as shitty as it is, it's _mine_. I have fought hard for my crew and my family. I've been places and seen things that kids in Flevance couldn't have even dreamed of. I wouldn't give that up for anything. I don't regret my life. Even though it came at the expense of my entire island."

"It wasn't an expense," said Spade. "They did not pay for you to be where you are today."

"Feels otherwise. Especially when I snuck out of Flevance under their carcasses."

"You got out of Flevance in a way that no one else would've had the grit to do," she said firmly. "You said it—it's your life. You earned it. You paid the price to become Pirate King, no one else."

Spade spoke with the same determination she'd had the night before, and her eyes glinted with a steely resolve that Law recognized in his crewmates.

"You made the right choice back then," he said quietly, "not to join my crew."

Spade smiled cryptically, and he knew she felt the same way.

* * *

"Commander!" Beret's voice rang over the Wingwoman like the crack of a whip. Something was wrong.

Spade looked up from her work. In exchange for the Oharan Poneglyph, Law had given Spade a translated version of the Fioran Poneglyph that she and Poppy were currently reading through and comparing to the transcription that Nan and Dan had copied from their appointment with the queen. Dan adjusted his reading glasses—Law had also gifted them a year's worth of issues of _Naval Medicine_ —and peered concernedly at Beret as she leapt down from the crow's nest and ran toward them.

"Marines sighted at four o'clock," she announced.

"How many ships?" Spade asked, resuming her reading.

"About fifty."

She jerked her head up. "Fifty?! That's a Supreme Admiral's fleet!"

"Last time I checked, no Supreme Admirals were supposed to be stationed this far out," Poppy said thoughtfully. "Maybe he came because of Aokiji?"

"No, Aokiji just got here. It's Law," Spade groaned. "He's been idle for so long, an fifty-ship fleet had time to arrive…"

"What should we do?" asked Beret.

"The queen's going to be upset," murmured Dan. "She said increased Marine scrutiny is going to make them suspicious of the Poneglyph they're hiding."

"Not our problem," said Spade coolly. "We got our translations. Has our Log Pose set?'

"Yeah, just did."

"Fine. Dan, call the twins and tell them to get back to the ship with as many supplies as possible. Poppy, map out the fastest route back to the Moby Dick. The moment the twins are back, we're out of here."

"Aye-aye." Poppy promptly dashed away, and Dan followed suit. Beret remained behind, a strange expression on her face.

"Something wrong?"

"Nah. Just sorry you only had a night with him."

Spade didn't know how to respond to that. She hadn't thought about it that way. Neither Law nor she had expected to extend their stay in Sinomet just because they wanted to. She'd given Law the Oharan Poneglyph with the expectation that Law would set sail soon; Underworld reports put the Strawhats en route to Sinomet currently. Law needed as much of the head-start as he could get.

"It's nothing," Spade said briskly. "We didn't expect anything else."

"Aye." Beret knew when to drop the conversation. "I'll relay a message to Captain Marco, let 'im know we're coming home."

Spade smiled. "Yeah, it'll be good to be home."

Beret set off to prepare their departure, leaving Spade alone on the Wingwoman's deck. She pulled out her personal Den-Den Mushi and dialed Law's number.

"You're not calling on a Burner," he said the moment he picked up.

"No, you have my number now. You can call it if you need to."

"Need or want?"

"Need, unless you have a Blocker. Beret sighted Marines. We're setting out as soon as the twins return. You guys should too."

"They really have impeccable timing. We just all boarded."

"Good." Spade's throat suddenly felt dry. "I suppose I'll see you around then."

Law didn't answer immediately. A blue dome captured the entire Wingwoman and all the ships a kilometer on either side of it, and Law abruptly appeared right next to her.

"That's it?" He hung up his Mushi. "See you around?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I'm sad you're leaving," he said mockingly, echoing their short-lived therapy session earlier. "I'm sad I'm not coming with you. I'm sad we didn't get in one final fuck before Marines showed up and cockblocked us as they always do—"

"How many times have you been cockblocked by Marines?" she said sourly.

Law chuckled. "More times than necessary."

He reached for her hands and their fingers interlocked. Law's eyes, cold, brilliant steel, softened as they met hers. Her mouth was dry again. Maybe she actually was sad.

"The first thing I'll do after I find the One Piece and become King is find you," he said, "and I swear that I will help you and Marco overthrow the Marines and World Government."

Her heart stuttered out of time. Did Law know what that would entail? That he was meant to conduct a life-threatening procedure to bestow unconditional power unto someone else? No, there was no way. Spade held her tongue. She did not believe in Fate.

She tightened her grip in his. "I won't need your help."

Law smirked, all confidence and ego restored. Before he could reply, a speaker blasted through the air.

"Trafalgar Law! This is Supreme Admiral Fujitora speaking. We have you surrounded. By the power bestowed by the Marine Institution, I hereby arrest you on counts of piracy, treason, plundering, et cetera. Surrender peacefully and no blood will be shed!"

"They're here quickly," Law murmured.

"We need to get out," said Spade sharply. The twins had just run aboard the Wingwoman, and Nan was dragging up the gangplank. "Set sail!"

"Who is that with you?" Fujitora's enhanced voice boomed across the port. "Well, I'll be darned. Is that Skye Spade? What are you two doing together? Is this a repeat of Punk Hazard? Is the Fioran monarchy involved in this scheme?"

"Fuck, you should go," said Spade, irritated that she'd been sighted so easily.

Law mused aloud. "The queen has been hospitable to us. I wouldn't want the Marines to seize the palace and discover the Poneglyph."

"That's none of our business, we need to go. We'll just let them think that we were here because of the Poneglyph, and—"

Law tilted her chin up and kissed her deeply. It was the kind of kiss that sent a jolt of pleasure straight down her spine, settling like a heat in her lower stomach, the kind that made Spade forget that they were in public, promptly being lambasted by a Marine Admiral. It was a kiss that made her miss him before he'd even left.

Spade held her wits about her and broke it off as soon as she remembered to.

"What are you doing?!"

Law shrugged and looked out in the direction of the Marines. "There. Now they'll think we just met here for a rendezvous."

"Law, did you not hear a single thing I said last night— _we cannot be each other's public weaknesses_!"

"You are not my weakness," said Law sharply, "and I am not yours. Let everyone know about us. I couldn't care less. No one accomplishes anything when they're in love—except for me. I'm going to prove to the entire fucking world that the prospect of you and me wasn't an obstacle I had to overcome to achieve my goal."

Law's eyes gleamed and his lips curled into a feral smile. He looked nearly manic.

"The next time I see you, I'll be your King."

He disappeared in a flash of blue. Spade did not have time to dwell on how cool Law's exit had been, or how fast her heart was pounding, or how badly she wished the Marines hadn't just arrived even an hour later so she and Law could get a final round in. She did not dwell on the what ifs, the when, the next times that would never come and the throne that would not be seized.

She was the Second Division Commander of the Phoenix Pirates, and she acted like it.

A howling gale tore through port and a wall of water rose from the oceans to the sky, separating them from the Marines. The Wingwoman zipped easily across the sea, escorted in the eye of a moving hurricane as it repelled canons, bullets, even entire meteors. By the time the storm cleared, the Wingwoman was nowhere in sight, and the Polar Tang had long sunk into the depths of the ocean, leaving no trace of them behind.

Buoyed by anticipation and dreams, they sailed diverging paths, which by Fate's design would never converge again. Yet, designs were neat and real circumstances messy, with blurred intentions and beliefs, broken bodies and pieces scattered on the roadsides in chaos through which thorny paths could be forged by the determined, and Fate by the nonbelievers could be forsaken.

But that's a story for another time.

Here, at this moment, in the shambles of a world on the cusp of rebirth, a future King and a past Queen existed and loved and hoped, and sometimes, that is enough for now.

 _Fin._

* * *

 _free talk_ : _thank you for reading shambles. it's been a fun ride. thank you for your support and messages. you make writing worth it. til next time._

 _xoxo,  
m.n_


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